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An Unlikely Gentleman

By: Jake_Knight



I'd like to thank LadyVer for editing without (allegedly) wincing. I like stories, which means I believe in context and build-up.

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"Tell me you did it on purpose." I said, after a sigh.

"W-what are you talking about?" I was sure he was picturing me rubbing my temples, which wouldn't have been far from the truth.

"The company logo, Hernán?"

Silence. He saw that the colors were way off. Even though we were co-workers and he was fifteen years my senior, my voice made him more nervous than our boss being angry—a recurrent theme with me. Turning away from my desk, I looked over the typical dull, gray cubicle workplace design and swept my gaze around the room. Conversations dwindled where my eyes landed, and then resumed after a few seconds.

Both Miranda and Rebecca met my glances. When my eyes met theirs, they reacted like most. Miranda nervously focused on her computer monitor; Rebecca smirked and turned away.

From teachers to friends, I have been frequently told that my way of doing things, especially staring, causes strong reactions in others. A few of those reactions, I have easily picked up on. With Miranda, hell, her interest in me was as subtle as a Rio de Janeiro carnival-goer in the middle of a funeral procession. Rebecca, amused by her friend's "stealthy" interest in me, seemed weary. I guessed they knew they would be playing with fire if they came near me—they just might have been right.

"Why, fuck me—" Hernán finally added. He was the nearest thing I had to a friend in that company.

"You know I don't swing that way," was my attempt to put him at ease as he didn't work well under stress. He emitted a sound that might've been a squeak or a bad attempt at giggling.

"—well, you saved my ass. I'll work on it."

"It's my job, and I owe you."

"Hey, I voted for you because I like your style. You say things as they are." Hernán dismissed the support that caused me to land the job. "I'll mail you the next version in a few. TIFF?"

"You can even send me a BMP if that works for you, as long as we turn it in in under four hours." We actually had two, but I didn't want to stress him out. I knew he'd get to it as soon as the line went dead.

"You got it, Dante."

After pulling up the file again from my laptop, I sensed Miranda examining me again.

I was part of the marketing department within a relatively new, but promising, company, and that week was the last one before being transferred to another office. I'd be working directly with Hernán Simmons-Rivera, the guy with great ideas, if sometimes a little careless with details. He came up with ideas. I polished them. I'd be able to tell if your shirt wasn't ironed correctly from a quick glance. A keen observer of colors, shapes, and proportions. That, and a marketing degree made me ideal for the position.

Focusing on the file, I overheard a comment about a cake topper. I was well aware of being called "cake topper" because my hair was always in its place, my suits were impeccable, my ties matched my suits, and my expression appeared frozen. I sought the possible source of the comment: Ronnie and Marcus, two grown men gossiping like high schoolers. Not my problem if they failed "basic shapes and colors" in kindergarten. Becoming braver now that they know I'm leaving.

Having mailed the draft to the higher-ups in hopes they gave it the thumbs up, which I knew wasn't going to happen on the first try, I went home.

***

Sweat clung to my struggling body as I did my not-favorite: pull-ups. The phone buzzed. Just a few more...the burn is almost there.

New email. Unknown sender.

"Its a shame that your leaving. But I can come clean. I have a crush on you, even if its wrong. Your too tempting, but everyone tells me I should stay away. When you walk by, I just want you to eat me up with the look. I'm sending this to get it out of my system, that you dont know who I am will keep me safe from you. Thats not what I want, but its the way it should be."

Bianca might've been right. She once told me, "Dante, I swear you take a sex shower. You know what I'm saying? There's like this tension around you. Whenever you look at me, you're hungry, but you manage not to make it sick. It's simply saying 'if I get my hands on you, I'll fuck you within an inch of your life.' Makes me tingle where it shouldn't."

I reread the email. It was only appropriate to snort. That anonymity was self-delusion of the highest quality. Miranda's frustration was obvious. She hadn't had sex for almost a year; her husband couldn't be bothered. I stayed away from gossip, which meant it was common knowledge. Too bad I don't sleep with women in a relationship, unless their husband or boyfriend happens to be an asshole. Then, you might qualify. You, woman, overestimate— A groan of frustration sliced the rest of the thought away.

I crept to the window that faced her apartment. Keys jingling and a juice bottle lying on the floor, Danielle bemoaned her clumsiness. She was too hot. Sensuous, long, and thick hair. Curvy body worthy of a pin-up poster. Fuck, if I could have a night with her...

I didn't want her learning about my (undeserved?) asshole reputation. I didn't know either why I wanted her more than any other woman. She turned around. Great, she sees me looking from my window. Way to be creepy, Dante. Haven't had sex for almost a month. Probably stared at her like a wolf in heat. Just great.

She smiled sheepishly before swiveling her eyes away, picking up her juice, and disappearing inside. Time to repair the creepy-look impression.

***

I bathed and got some decent clothes on. The plan was simple: get artichoke dip. In some fleeting conversation I had mentioned it before, and she had been interested.

However, walking out of the store, I was stopped by a reluctant and cheerful, "H-hey..."

Whatsherface, the blond jogger that I normally saw around the neighborhood. Busy staring at my "expensive" outlet shoes, she didn't even look at me. Lauren? Lorrie? L... "Lorelai," I offered. My voice sounded deeper than I intended. She finally lifted her eyes as if they were laden by an almost overpowering weight. She hurriedly smiled with uncertainty.

She looked damn good, her body fit, and, while not showing too much, the outfit worn made it clear she took good care of herself.

Surreptitiously, the sun sank in the horizon, bathing the landscape in that golden light that makes everything glow. It struck her face. If I had been falling for this girl, I would've been head over heels at that moment. Her ivy-colored eyes gave the illusion of being lighter and warmer. Her lips hinted at being even more inviting than the norm. Her breasts were a nice, natural C that required powerful elastics on her top so they didn't bounce painfully.

"I...uh...I was wondering if you...could help me again." Fuck you silly again, you mean. Why lie?

"Fuck you silly again, you mean." I wasn't at work, so my language wasn't restricted.

She actually gasped and turned a nice shade of red that favored her appearance.

"I...I don't..."

"If that's a 'yes', follow me to my apartment." I didn't even wait. I turned and walked back. As expected, her footsteps, even if timidly, followed me. Why so many adult women react well to the high school treatment has always been beyond me. I didn't care about them, and did nothing to lead them on. I was in no way tender, but they came to me anyway. Being described as "cute" helped, but looks aren't everything. Hell, I had hated the jocks that treated girls like crap to "get some", and here I was doing almost the same because I really didn't care, not to grab their attention.

Somehow it ended with them wanting me. Something about an "aura of mystery" surrounding me, I believe. While that might not have been my original intention, offer me sex with an attractive girl? Where do I sign?

***

"You know where the shower is," I told Lorelai, after unlocking the door and leaving the dip in the fridge. A few seconds later the water was running.

The apartment seldom impressed anybody for better or for worse. I worked in marketing, but that isn't always big money. I just knew how to spend and where to spend. I walked into the bathroom and got rid of my clothes.

Obediently, Lorelai was already soaping her body by the time I was inside. I stepped in right behind her and breathed on her shoulders. She shivered in a nice way. I extended my right hand to touch where my breath had caressed her skin, and I heard a stifled moan. OK, I might have been good, but not THAT good to get reactions without even touching. I paid close attention.

I touched Lorelai and she shivered again, not daring to peek at me yet. Another moan. Not from Lorelai...Danielle? The thought of my brunette neighbor got me harder than I was. That lucky bastard is visiting her again. Not as often as I would visit her if I were him, however. I slowly ran my fingers down Lorelai's back until they reached her hips. I grabbed her and forcefully turned her around, making her look at me. Let's get you to moan and show Danielle how it's done.

Whereas I didn't know how or why my stare worked, it didn't mean I didn't use it. I stared hard and deep into her eyes for a few seconds. She even attempted to cover up her breasts, but I prevented her from doing so by grabbing her wrists and pinning them against the wall—the shower's spray trying to find a way between us. Her knees bent slightly and she swallowed with difficulty, turning away. I breathed in. The scent was there.

Without moving my eyes away from hers, I let her know that I noticed. "You're already wet." One...two... The pause was long enough to make her nervous, and I was rewarded with what I wanted. She tried to speak.

"Are yo—hmph." I pressed my lips against hers and started kissing her furiously. She sighed into my mouth and rubbed her body against mine. Her pussy barely, but successfully, managed to make fleeting contact with my member. I growled, nibbling on her lip, then kissed and bit my way down to her neck. Not yet. I bit a tad harder on her neck. She whimpered.

My hands, of course, were quite busy. Her body was perfect. I mean, she might have had a bit of extra fat somewhere on her hips, but that is perfect for me—some flaw that makes me feel I'm going to fuck an actual woman, not a photo shopped, unnaturally perfect doll from a Playboy cover. Her breasts were soft and I began with some applied pressure. As soon as she became more turned on, I'd be rougher, but in the meantime I played lightly with her nipples.

"Ah." She pressed harder into me and wriggled her hips. That chick always wanted to take me bareback, never bothering to ask for condoms, which made condoms a necessity. The bathroom window had a weird arch shape to it. Above the arch, I could hide small things. Like rubbers. I let one of her hands free and grabbed the small object in my hand. Since she was too eager, it was only obligatory for me to make her ache for it. "On your knees," and it's not an option, my tone let her know.

She complied almost too quickly. Her knees made a soft thud against the shower floor. I heard Danielle moaning again. Lorelai didn't even need me to tell her; she started sucking my dick as if her life depended on it. The girl had a mean technique. It became my turn to moan. "Ah..."

I pumped my hips, one hand guarding the unopened condom, the other one guiding her head. She noisily and messily worked on my cock with her pouty lips, her hand jacking me off, caressing all my length. Let's get this out of the way. I am not porn star sized. Women never gasp with shock, nor laugh at it. I'm not giving numbers away.

After our previous encounters, Lorelai had already figured out my sensitive spots. My hips, without my permission, began to move faster against her mouth, creating obscene slurping sounds. I grunted, feeling the orgasm rearing its head, still far away, but now in sight. Her tongue brushed the underside of my cock unabashedly and I felt a nice tingle. I heard Danielle do that sexy sound of hers a bit louder and I imagined her sucking me off. Suddenly, the orgasm didn't feel that far away. "Enough. Stand up."

She looked at me excitedly, but I wasn't going to fuck her just yet. I made sure her back was against the wall and I knelt, placing one of her legs on my shoulder. I dove in. My free hand teased her nether lips for a few seconds, but my tongue wasn't that patient and I soon used it, almost like a whip against her defenseless pussy. "Oh, GOD!"

As soon as she said that, I made a mental note of what I had done, and placed the soon-to-be-used condom on the floor and began playing with myself, lightly. Then, without warning, I unleashed that maneuver that had made her yelp, over and over again, with higher intensity. Lorelai veritably wailed. Her hands sprang out to grasp something to prevent her from falling. As if on cue, my neighbor moaned again and I almost shot my load. I immediately let go of my cock, working on denying my orgasm, making sure it'd be intense when I finally let go.

She placed one hand on my back and caressed it without any defined pattern, as if searching for something, her hips bucking against my tongue. I felt her fingers caressing the ridges of my back muscles, while not huge, defined enough to make them pleasant to look at. I kept attacking her pussy with fury. My finger slipped entirely into her and received a hug from her inner muscles. I stroked my dick again, slowly.

I finger-fucked her, slowly but firmly, making sure my tongue didn't stop, my other hand keeping me near the edge. Lorelai moaned so loud it might've qualified as a scream. Her pussy got tighter and I stopped fingering her, moving my mouth away from her. She stared down at me, bewildered. I looked up at her, daring her to question my motives. She didn't. As soon as she seemed to come down from her high, I went back to work resuming my attentions on her clit with my tongue, my finger trying to find the exact spot that would make her explode. Her breathing suddenly revved up.

A surrounding, sinful groan from Danielle and Lorelai resonated simultaneously in the room and my orgasm again threatened me. I stopped touching myself and devoted my attention to making her lose control. Down my tongue went. Then up, not covering a small area, but randomly focusing on the places that made her respond. She quivered and I stopped again.

"Why...what...what are you doing?" Panting, Lorelai could barely talk.

I dislodged her leg from above my shoulder, stood up slowly but surely, stopped the running water, and handed her a towel. "Get on the bed." She could easily tell that I was going to fuck her, hard. I think she almost came just from the anticipation. I decided that this time I wouldn't spend a whole night giving her orgasms. It'd be only one, but certainly worth it.

She hurriedly wrapped her long, blond hair with another small towel found hanging nearby, dried her body quickly, and walked towards the bedroom. I followed, intently listening for any moans from Danielle. Lorelai almost jumped on the bed, her breasts moving slightly with every one of her breaths once she was sitting up. She appreciatively evaluated my body. I stood in front of her and was about to push her on her back when she started kissing my torso, spreading butterfly kisses on the ab muscles that were visible.

She started sucking my dick again. As if it was going to get soft. I let her do that for a few seconds, but gently pushed her head back after that. She wouldn't appreciate it if I were rough at that moment. I was not going to treat her bad all the time. I was focused on her pleasure, even if it looked as if I were using her. Instead of addressing her roughly, I was blunt, but not harsh. "Lie back. I need to fuck you right now."

Her lip trembled, but she managed to reply. "Can I be on top?" Ok, I wasn't going to be that gentle. I couldn't help always being in charge. And she was asking too nicely. Before I could stop myself, I raised an eyebrow, giving her a 'no, we're doing this my way' look. She actually blushed. I rolled the condom on. With Lorelai on her back, my naked form hovered on top of hers like an ominous cloud.

"Get it in," I told her, giving her some control of what we were doing. She grasped my cock and placed it at her entrance. There was no point in denying that she was soaked and that I needed this. I sank halfway in. She is so hot inside... Right away I established a rhythm, feeding her my cock a little bit more with every thrust. She forgot how to breathe—her mouth open, her body tense—as I started fucking her harder by the second.

I was afraid I was hurting her, but she suddenly moved and came alive, letting out a series of ragged breaths. I couldn't feel that much due to the condom. I had gotten one of the thicker ones, which was fine. Maybe I wouldn't have lasted otherwise. I pulled out and the expression on Lorelai's face was almost of despair. I didn't waste time. I placed both her ankles guarding my ears, and I began fucking her down against the mattress, knowing that it would allow deeper penetration. Danielle could be heard cooing. Had she left her window open? I normally couldn't listen to her having sex (yes, I often tried; she was my typical jack-off inspiration).

Lorelai moved her back as if I had been torturing her, changing positions rapidly, her face almost depicting pain. But the moans and whimpers stated the truth. She got tighter, but not quite there yet. Since listening to my neighbor had me ready to blow, I did the only thing that could stop me from cumming. I played a song, mentally. Coffee Rumba (Moliendo Café, for those who speak Spanish) provided enough distraction.

My mind, being elsewhere, wouldn't last forever. I moved in an exaggerated motion, using all of my length to dig out the orgasm I needed to give her. She mumbled something as I changed the strategy against her senses, vaguely feeling every inch of my cock disappear in her hungry and accepting body. "Look at it. Look at my dick fucking you, Lorelai."

"Dante, I—"

"Look."

She stared, entranced, watching my meat glistening with her arousal go in and out, over and over again. Good girl.

Lorelai was the kind of woman that would lose her pristine demeanor if teased or aroused enough, and I planned to make that happen. With one arm, I secured both legs, the other hand playing with her nipples again, only harder. I pinched them until I found her in the dubious point between pleasure and pain. The first time I had had sex with her, she had told me she was tired of men treating her like a princess. Truth be told, even like that—naked, under me—she did manage to have a regal air to her; her slightly tanned skin and aristocratic features matched nicely. So, lucky me, I get to play with her as rough as she can manage.

I lowered my hand and tried to fit it between our bodies. Slightly awkward since I was fucking her hard, my hips slamming against hers. I finally managed to get two fingers near her clit, and I did my best to nudge it, massage it, and press hard against it. That regal air was almost broken. Her reluctance when speaking vanished, at least temporarily. "Oh, God! Oh, OH! Give me that cock!"

The princess had ordered. I could only comply. I released her legs and snaked that hand towards a strategic spot that would give me leverage. I used my weight and position to drive myself into her as if I wanted to destroy her. I played with her clit almost as if I wanted to make it catch fire with the friction, but she was too wet to let that happen. Last time I had done something like that...


An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 02



Thanks to LadyVer for editing this story.



The moon was particularly beautiful that month: big, bright, slightly tinged with orange. Few clouds would even dare cross the path of its light as it shone over the city. The kind of moon that would be the centerpiece of an ominous setting, the perfect background for a fateful encounter. This moonlight attempted to flood my room, restrained only by the window's shape and size.

And I didn't give one minimal fraction of a flying fuck.

My lips were locked in a terrible battle with Trish's. I closed my eyes to focus on the sensations. She hadn't said anything as I opened the door, as it was the fourth time that week she had visited; she had told me that she had to turn in a series of essays and similar pieces of schoolwork and that she had needed to wind down. She had found no better way than me riding her until we were both covered in sweat and barely able to breathe.

I found it perfectly agreeable.

Trish couldn't hold back a sensuous moan as she heard my shirt being torn open. I was almost certain she'd come. I even had worn garments that I didn't care about, just in case.

I bit her lip, gently, but possessively, as I let the shirt fall. Trish's hands ran over my torso, and my arousal was fed with gasoline. My hand grabbed hers and I made her feel my hardened manhood through the jeans. She tightened her grip around it as she flicked her tongue near my lips, before invading my mouth.

The rustling sound of clothing crumpling under its own weight made me open my eyes. Nice surprise. She was opening her eyes too, which made the experience of kissing her even more intense, as we stared at each other. I touched her back. Her cardigan and jeans had been discarded, and we only had to separate from each other so she could get rid of her shirt. Once the stupid garment was finally out of our way, we looked at each other for a second.

There she was—a young woman that could've been a model for physical perfection. Tall, but with a perfect shape. Red hair in a fishtail braid. Freckles giving extra depth to those almond-shaped, dark, gorgeous brown eyes. Fair skin, but with some extra tan I suspected wasn't from the sun. Her D-cup breasts were an A+ worthy work of a doctor. Nothing overwhelming due to her height. She had almost no body fat, unjustifiably, since I saw her eat. Trish was just blessed with a superior metabolism. The cherry on top was her lustful expression, which carried a hint of accusation.

"I think I failed today's quiz."

I was unbuttoning my jeans as she said it. They fell on the floor. "Then we should fuck less often." My insincerity was obvious.

"Actually, we don't have enough sex. I was trying to answer th'damn thing, y'know"—her accent continued to amuse me—"and I couldn't stay in the same position...and it all reminded me of... I was wet before the third... Whatever, do me here."

Other than when we first met, Trish didn't like the word "fuck" to refer to sex. She could certainly curse and she didn't hold back from using that word, and yet, when we were about to have sex, or when we were doing it, she avoided it. Of course, that didn't mean she wasn't straightforward. The redhead was efficiently getting rid of the last items as she said that, then, she took two steps towards the living room and placed her hands against the couch's back and looked over her shoulder. She couldn't wait.

The brown couch had been witness to more sex this week than in the last months. Trish had a particular attachment to it; she liked how the fabric felt. I fished the condom wrapper from my jeans, returning them to the floor where they belonged. She already had seen me naked enough times and she didn't need to be teased. I stepped out of my underwear as quickly as I could.

"And it's Friday."

I started sheathing my cock with the extra sensitive condom. "Oh?"

"I was waiting for it. I can stay the night again!"

I smirked at her, closed the distance between us, and aimed my member. When it touched her nether lips, I could feel just how hot she was—aroused just enough for us to get what we both wanted. I pushed into her, letting my breath out as I sunk into her constricting depths.

Trish's head fell between her supporting arms and she let out a small whimper, lifting her ass to allow me a deeper penetration. On the right side, a small, purple oval was visible. I had bitten her and given her a hickey, which made sitting through quizzes quite hard, apparently. The blame couldn't fall on me, however, as her backside was nothing short of delicious.

My hands found their way to her hips and took a firm grip. I knew she wanted it hard right away, but I had learned that if I did that, she would be sore the morning after. Since she was staying, I wouldn't compromise the possibility of morning sex too. My pace was almost languid, stretching each thrust as much as I could.

I bent over and breathed against her neck as I rocked my hips slowly against hers. Opening my mouth, I placed my teeth on her neck...but didn't bite. I straightened myself and with a firm grip on her body, started burying myself into her. Maybe I wasn't going at full speed, but the strength behind my movements was obvious.

Her voice trembled when she moaned. I bent my knees slightly and started thrusting upwards, the head of my cock sliding against that point inside of her that drove her crazy. It was opposite of where the G-spot is supposed to be located, but it worked wonders on her.

As expected, she gasped and then trembled, her knuckles becoming white as she grabbed onto the couch for support to accept all of me. Two of my fingertips caressed the purple spot I had left. I did get carried away often, but I wasn't in that mood yet.

Her walls started closing in on me as I kept the angled thrusts. She was getting close to an orgasm. Trish was definitely stressed; she usually needed more time, even for quickies. It was as if she wanted to get the first one out of the way. She wasn't talking, just fucking back and letting herself be taken.

Suddenly I remembered something. We hadn't closed the door in our hurry to have sex. I started to go faster, just to get her off. I'd worry about my orgasm after our privacy was assured, but Trish would probably not like to wait. I turned to my left to gaze at the partially open door and noticed a perfectly immobile silhouette, backlit but unmistakable. The growl of lust was out of me before I realized it.

Danielle.

My left hand dug into Trish's hips, and I started driving myself with purpose—with my desire in overdrive—my eyes burning into Danielle. Trish began whimpering with my forceful pumping.

The fingertips of my right hand tentatively caressed Trish's neck. Once I found her spine, I trailed my fingertips down her back slowly, sensuously, as I fucked her without mercy. But I only had eyes for Danielle. I bared my teeth, staring at her lasciviously. Trish moaned with the sensations as I slammed into her, impaling her with all the strength I could muster.

Although Danielle wasn't moving, I knew she got my meaning. I was fucking her through Trish. I exaggerated my movements. Since I already was on display, I'd make it worthwhile. I pulled almost all the way out before pistoning in a series of forceful thrusts.

The teen against the couch tried to say something, but she had issues articulating words while being thoroughly fucked. I could feel my dick getting harder as it slid into her with ease but rough purpose.

"Do you like that?" I did not direct that at Trish.

"Yes! God, yes!" She answered anyway.

Her sudden scream of pleasure took Danielle by surprise and shook her out of her trance. The silhouette hurriedly vanished from the doorway. Before she was out of earshot, I still had something else to say to my neighbor.

"I'll fuck you harder than you've ever imagined."

I spanked Trish and made good on my promise. Just as if she were my next full-body workout, I gave her all my effort and strength. I wasn't simply fucking her. I was destroying her and making her love it. My self-control was gone after having seen Danielle standing there watching. It was too much.

"Cum for me."

Trish was addressed this time. She just nodded, her submission to me total. I could feel my body temperature rising with the effort. My skin was tingling after so many stimuli. I spanked her again, and she yelped, contracting herself around me.

"Cum," I said.

She emitted a high-pitched groan and her body began shaking. I felt her pussy contracting wildly, trying to get me to ejaculate. I let one hand go. I bent over Trish, and that gave me the reach I needed. I played roughly with her clit to make it explosive for her.

With a wordless scream, she came, her body closing around me wrathfully. I joined her, filling the condom with such force I thought it was going to break. I felt each spurt weakening me, and I held on to her just as she did to the couch.

Trish and I gasped rather than breathed, our bodies sweaty and spent. We sat on the cold floor with our backs to the couch.

"Ok...remember how...I said that th'last one...was th'best? ...I take that back... THIS was th'best."

I revealed half a smile. I allowed my breathing to become a bit more regular before answering. "So... That time you asked me about what I ate. Do you really believe that?"

I hoped she didn't notice that I changed the subject and interpreted the smile as acceptance. I suddenly felt guilty, because with a clear mind, I knew that what I had done hadn't been smart. If everything went smoothly, they wouldn't talk about this and Danielle wouldn't bring it up.

"I read this crap about diet changing th'flavor...yours is th'best I've had."

"Why, thank you, Kid. But at this rate, my flavor is going to change, if that's true."

"Why?"

"Lay on the bed. I know what I want for dinner." I wolfishly grinned at her.

She nodded quickly and stood up as gracefully as she could manage after a disorienting orgasm. Without delay, she strode towards the bedroom. I went to close the door, thoughtful.

***

Trish nudged me awake. The clock showed it was 2 p.m. already. We had been up late. "Gatorade should sponsor this shit," she said with a huge grin.

"We'd have to invite a crowd to watch the event."

"But we'd get paid for this!"

"I find that hard to counter. I take it you enjoyed yourself, then?"

"Idiot. I'm going to get something to drink. Get yourself ready for some morning action." She suddenly remembered, adding, "Your cell buzzed a few times, by th'way."

She disappeared out of the room and I checked the phone that I had left in silent mode. Three missed calls from Alice. Weird. I dialed her number.

"Dante! Have you seen Gabriel?"

Instead of giving her a hard time for not even saying hello, her tone worried me so I cut to the chase. "No. Is something wrong?"

"I—maybe I'm overreacting. Yesterday was our anniversary and he left a bit upset because..." Alice's pause was uncomfortable, but I could guess what happened. Gabriel was the perpetual horn dog, and Alice had no sex drive. He surely had assumed he'd get some fantastic sex due to the anniversary. Poor guy.

"Yeah, well, whatever the reason... So, he's upset?"

"He's not answering my calls since yesterday. I called around midnight to check on him."

That would've been normal from anyone else, but Gabriel worshipped the ground Alice walked on. I had never seen such a devoted boyfriend, so it was strange. Not alarming, but unusual. "Maybe he's not hearing the phone or cell phone or something. Have you gone to his place?"

"I'm on my way there." Her tone was nearing panic.

"Ok, I'll make a few calls. If anything, we're supposed to meet later today, so I'll let you know. You worry too much, Alice." I tried a soothing tone in my voice.

"Thanks," she hurriedly said, before hanging up.

I turned around and Trish was there, looking at me inquisitively—two glasses of orange juice in her hands—wearing only panties. My member stirred slightly when she offered me one of the glasses and bent forward slightly.

"Everything ok?"

"Yeah, a friend and his girlfriend had some fight and she's looking for him. I'll just have to check around quickly. The dork is probably asleep or something," I said, as I scrolled down through my phone's contacts. I selected one, hit the green button to call, gulped down some juice, and left the glass on the nightstand. I signaled the phone so Trish would know that I was about to make a call. She left her glass on the same nightstand, and her eyes shone with malice. She pilfered the phone away from my hand and activated the speaker, putting it right beside our glasses.

Trish dismissively got rid of the sheet covering my nude body and lowered her head towards me. "I talked so much about flavor and didn't get to taste y'yesterday. So...be quiet while I work." By then, I was aware of her steadfast ways, so I didn't even bother to reply and braced myself for—

Her tongue began from the base of my cock and slowly trailed a wide path all the way towards the head. I was hard in no time. Her mouth sucked on my cock lovingly while I barely heard the phone attempting to connect the call.

She made some wet, smacking sound when she focused her attentions on the tip. Somebody picked up on the other end of the line and the usual greeting came.

"M-hmmm?"

"Hey, honey, how are you?" I asked. Trish froze, my cock lodged halfway in her mouth.

"Hun! I was thinking about you," said the male voice on the other end, dripping with overacted love.

Trish stared, dumbfounded, but then a third voice chipped in, further away.

"Dante, are you still trying to steal my man?" A faraway female voice, her tone was one of a grown-up, amused, witnessing immature boys playing.

"Of course not, Maria. You're my bro! And I do follow the code. Bros before hoes." I smiled at Trish, who understood that we were just being idiots, my friends and I. She didn't understand how unusual it was for anyone to witness this exchange. She rolled her eyes, exhaling through her nose, then shrugged and went back to sucking me softly. My back tensed.

"Heyyy! I'm hurt," the male voice said, "and she didn't hear that, by the way."

Trish sucked on the head again, a bit harder than before and I tried not to gasp.

"Pan, have—" I had to breathe in again. Whatever she was doing with her tongue, that was the stuff of legends. "Have you heard anything about Gabriel?"

"No, actually, Alice just called a few minutes ago," he said.

Trish quickly moved her tongue, and I couldn't prevent a small moan from being uttered.

"You ok?" Pan asked.

"I'm—oh—I'm ok."

Trish suddenly started bobbing her head up and down my length. I made the mistake of looking at her and saw my shaft glistening with her saliva. I groaned. Her pretty lips made a sudden obscene sound when she came up for air. She then dove back in, sucking me noisily and sloppily. Just how I liked it.

"Holy shit!" Pan, just like any man with some experience, knew the sounds of a blow job. "You are something, Dante. Anyway. See you at the LUG meeting?"

"Yeah...call Alice if...call Alice if something comes up..."

Pan hung up muttering something about a lucky dog.

Trish started jacking me off with one hand. The other one caressed my balls for a second but thought about it twice. It continued its path downwards until it cupped my ass and she pulled herself down on my cock.

"Oh, shit...want to make me cum? Here."

I placed both my hands on her head and started directing her movements up and down, my hips moving on their own accord. She jacked me off faster. My head fell back as she continued with her sucking, and she moaned. Trish enjoyed giving head like nobody's business. She was so good I was about to cum. I didn't know if she was in a rougher mood, so I skipped the name-calling.

"Swallow it—nnngh," I ordered her as I pumped, feeling my balls contract against my body as a final warning sign.

I felt the surge of energy as cum was forcefully delivered into Trish's waiting mouth. She happily and lustfully went at it, with anxiousness, as I emptied my balls, groaning as my thick semen was hungrily devoured by her.

Finally, I went limp.

"Mmmmh," she said appreciatively as the last drops of my essence left my body, not leaving any evidence to escape her mouth.

I looked at Trish and pulled her up, so her head would be level with mine. "That was really nice." My fingers explored her body.

"What's LUG?" 

I snorted; she had caught that even being busy. "My friends," my only true friends, "Pan, Gabriel, and I are called the 'Last Unlikely Gentlemen' by Maria, Pan's girlfriend. She says we're similar in many ways, and nobody would expect us to be as we are. There's also Ralph and my brother, who aren't part of the official deal, but are welcome. And since gentlemen are disappearing..."

"You're weird."

"You have no idea."

My hands had been idly running on her skin and I decided to test my digital dexterity bestowed by harp playing. Tapping her torso with my fingers, alternating which one touched, my right hand started traveling down her tanned body. Then I went up almost with a drumming motion, but with my fingers in order just like when you do arpeggios, until I found the lower border of her breast. I tentatively touched for a fraction of a second and pulled my fingers back, over and over again, to get her sensitized enough. Closing in spiraling motions as I neared her nipple. Right before I touched it, however, I skipped to the other side of her torso and I repeated the whole routine, teasing her.

"I'm wet already," she whined.

"As if I didn't know. You love to go down on me."

"Then what are you doing?!"

"Teaching you some patience, Kid," I teased her, but appeased simultaneously, "you'll enjoy learning this."

My hands snaked between her legs and I began by touching several areas that I knew weren't that sensitive. After that, I applied some pressure on her inner thighs and walked my fingers up her mound, still perfectly shaven. Not that I minded hair, but if she wanted it that way, I supported her.

I looked at Trish's face and she seemed to be ready to slap me due to the impatience. My index finger penetrated her, then my middle finger. She was hot and there was no resistance for me, wet as she was. My left hand went up to her chin, I decided against it, moved it down to her breast. Then my playing began.

While not thinking about the folkloric song Siquisirí, I applied the same technique of fingering, my right hand between her legs doing the melody. My thumb flicked her clit every now and then—my index and middle fingers sank and started massaging her from the inside with alternating rhythms—my ring finger sliding slightly as if changing chords, but caressing her nether lips. Since the little finger is normally not used in harp playing, I decided to do the same, the rest of my fingers being far more dexterous.

My left hand massaged her breast softly, my fingers doing different motions from my other hand, her nipple being teased from different directions. I kissed her hungrily to capture her moan with my mouth. Her body became heavier as she leaned against me while I played her like the most beautiful instrument I had had my hands on.

She squirmed when my digits found a sequence that made her respond better and I did it over and over again, each time increasing the tempo. My left hand found her other breast and she was trembling as I went as fast as I could, feeling her tensing up slowly.

Undoubtedly she was enjoying it, but I believed I could pay more attention to her clit, so my fingers withdrew slightly from her. I could almost feel Trish's disappointment, but it didn't last long. Once I had a free knuckle out of her on my index finger, I kept doing my fingering motion; however, my palm moved differently. Just like when you're attempting to get a harmonic tone out of a string, the side of my thumb applied pressure on her clit. I did this motion so fast I was certain my hand was about to become a blur.




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 02



"Oh, SHIT! OH!" She actually separated herself from my mouth to curse without restraint when her body was shaken by the sensations I provided. I nibbled on her ear and flicked my tongue around her earlobe. A high-pitched sound slipped past her lips and instead of breathing, she was panting as I fingered her with the speed necessary to bring an orgasm that would slam her senses.

Once I had found her buttons that I knew how to play, I just made sure I didn't overdo it to not make her sore, but kept pushing them as fast as I thought necessary. Her pussy was tightening around my fingers. She was only a few seconds away. I bit her shoulder possessively and sucked in hard, not stopping my hands for even a second.

"Oh, shit, Dante! OH!" That was her final scream as she came. I could feel her trembling and her sounds stopped being coherent as she tried to damage my fingers with her inner muscles. While not eloquent, I knew she was enjoying the ride like I hadn't seen her do before.

Without notice, she stopped and collapsed against me. I withdrew my hands with care and licked my fingers. The taste of a woman can drive me crazy, but I had to get ready. Trish's dark eyes were fixed on me, their almond shape being incredibly sexy as they were not fully open.

"I take it you liked that." I wore one of my devious grins as I got up. My room was a mess, so I had to get everything back in order. As I worked on that, I felt Trish looking at me all that time. It took me a few minutes to make it look decent. She had recovered already. "Now I gotta get ready to hang out with the LUG—"

"Awww, already?"

I nodded sagely. "We have to take a bath. As much as I like smelling like sex, I don't think they'd appreciate it. I'd love it if you joined me, although we don't have time to do anything extra, unfortunately."

She took the opportunity and followed me to the bathroom. We had fun, playing with each other a little before I had to stop her. She was planning to suck me off, probably just to get me hard so I would fuck her. Trish pouted, but eventually we managed to step outside being clean.

I was getting dressed as I heard a quick succession of keys being pressed. She was texting with an amazing pace. The fact that I was meeting other guys didn't make me sloppy on my appearance. I chose a white shirt with a simple design, got a deep purple tie, and tied it with a trinity knot. Good jeans and boots, leather jacket and I styled my hair quickly. Trish was still getting her hair up in a bun, but was for the most part ready.

The living room had to be arranged. I got busy with that while Trish applied some makeup and did whatever final touches she needed.

When she was ready, I was already at the door. I had assumed that I would walk her down to the street, each going our separate ways. Instead, Trish went outside my apartment, walked in a straight line, and opened Danielle's door. If it was unlocked, it meant she was expected. Which meant that the texting...

"Please don't fill her in with every detail..."

Trish simply smiled at me with an expression that implied she was ignoring that request. My last hope was that Danielle would be silent about her watching us.

***

I parked Atargatis. It's a Night Rod Special, but she deserves a name, like a good motorcycle. The guy from Harley Davidson had looked at me as if I had grown purple rhinoceros horns when I asked for it to not be as loud as others. But with some extra money each month as I paid, he had gotten it done.

The restaurant had healthy food, for Pan measured his calories with zeal. I was trying to eat mostly organic...and Gabriel, as long as it wasn't insultingly caloric, he was fine.

When I took a seat, Pan was already sitting with the menu in his hands. His curly hair was unruly and, damn him, he looked like a freaking Greek god. As always. One of the few men I envied, every now and then. Picture an Abercrombie or American Eagle model. That kind of not huge but incredibly defined musculature and zero body fat. Now, to ruin everything, throw perfectly unflattering clothes all over, the kind that hides the body shape.

"Hi, hun."

"M-hmm."

If I was almost inexpressive, Pan took that to whole different levels. I had seen more reactions out of the actress in Twilight.

"Where's the dork?"

He shrugged and looked at me with that friendliness that had defined us for almost 20 years, but I knew something was odd. He finally spoke. "Gabriel hasn't called at all, doesn't answer the door...nothing." His hazel eyes told me we had the same conclusion: that was odd.

Pan made a quick gesture over his shoulder and I saw his girlfriend Maria, and Alice, Gabriel's girlfriend. Maria seemed to have been made for Pan; they both had evident Mediterranean heritage. Hers had an olive complexion. Her hair was sexy and she owned the lips you see on depictions of nymphs and eyes of Greek goddesses. Underwear model kind of body, since she did choose her clothing more fitting, I knew. Just delicious. I may have thought about her once or twice while I was feeling lonely.

Alice was a perfect porcelain doll: fair skin, dark hair, small mouth with slightly full lips, and rosy cheeks. She wore her hair like those Japanese high schoolers. Her body was certainly nice; she had bigger breasts than Maria and, while not as athletic-looking, she was really, really attractive. One of her biggest assets, physical beauty notwithstanding, was that she was as smart as she looked. And the girl looked sharp.

Although they looked more worried than anything else, they acknowledged my presence with a small wave from Maria, a questioning look from Alice. I shook my hand, waved, and my brain geared into overdrive.

"Do you think he had blue balls so badly he just snapped?" I didn't entirely believe my theory, but couldn't come up with anything better.

"Maybe."

"Because Gabriel wouldn't do drugs and get lost like that. He's not the outdoorsy type to try to go to a cabin in the woods to meditate.... We know the guy since high school, Pan." That I didn't even call him 'honey' definitely showed that I was worried. It was an old joke that had become ingrained in our system and I had just skipped that.

"If he had done anything stupid, he would've called."

"So nobody has news from him, then? Galahad? Ralph?"

"No."

Our food arrived. Some kind of salad for Pan that looked incredibly healthy—not tasty—and he had ordered for me a turkey wrap with bacon and vegetables. We ate in silence for a few seconds, and I knew that going to the rock bar later on was out of the question. Surprisingly, it was Pan who broke the silence.

"Who's the girl in turn?" When he asked the question, he mocked the accent that I used to have years before, when I had just arrived to the country.

"Uh... Yeah, I'm not even going to pretend to play dumb. Her name is Trish."

"First the jogger and now her? We'd better tell Ralph to step up his game; otherwise, you'll be the womanizer!"

"Can't complain. She's eager to try a lot, but the girl has no patience when it comes to— Anyway, how about you? Almost done with the extra classes?"

"'no patience'? How old is she?"

"Uh...nineteen." I half closed my eyes, dubiously.

"You bastard." Pan looked at me in awe and a little of something else, like envious disapproval. Dinner went on.

***

Trembling, I barely finished the set of one-handed push-ups. That Sunday didn't feel at all like one; there was no dread of the upcoming Monday, nor the lazy feel typical of the week's last day. I opened a drawer, mixed some chemicals, and undressed.

While showering, the phone rang. I placed it on speakerphone as I rinsed the hair dye. Frequent touch-ups made my hair look natural, with no roots to stand as evidence of my originally dark blond hair.

"Hey, Mister." Her East Coast accent filled the room.

"Hey, Kid. What's up?"

"I'm going back to NY for a few days. I leave in two days and I've got some plans for today, but... Wanna meet me at th'new mall?"

"Sure. What time?"

"An hour from now?"

"Sounds good."

***

I had chosen my clothes with more care than the day prior. I wore a blazer with a fashionable cut, a shirt that showed the time I spent working out, casual pants, and shoes that matched the blazer's color. I felt ready to appear in a poster, ready to get some time with Trish whimpering under my body.

As I walked towards the place where we had agreed to meet, I saw her. She was wearing some pants that let everyone know how incredible her ass was. A tiny shirt that showed some skin, a sporty headband, and running shoes. She also looked ready to appear in a poster. But she was surrounded by six or seven females and a guy. I had forgotten about the mall crawls in teams.

A slight feeling of unease crept over me when I noticed that the guy had a possessive arm around Lorelai. He looked powerful. While not having the definition that I had, if there was a man within the mall that I would've thought capable of punching through a wall, that was him.

Oh, joy. Let's hope he doesn't know how we're connected. I thanked my boyish face. I didn't see any of the girls looking at me strangely, as if I were too old for the crowd. They all seemed quite charmed, except for one. I scanned the group.

Lorelai, the blond, I already knew quite well. Trish, looking nothing short of stunning. A slightly heavier but very cute girl with long, braided mahogany hair, looking at me as if I had stepped out of one of her wet dreams. A very forgettable girl trying to copy everything that appeared on magazines with light blond hair, oversized glasses, and a hat that would look terrible in pictures within a few years. The hipster one with awesome ink on her arms and bouncy, curly hair nodded at Trish, approvingly, when I raised a hand to wave at them. Wearing a nice dress, a girl with Middle Eastern genes, for certain, short but very well proportioned with alluring eyes. An Asian girl with sparkling earrings and a dazzling smile, attempting to look older than she was with the way she was dressed. Finally, looking at me as if I had farted in her face, a girl with genes from all over the place; I would've guessed Caribbean/Hawaiian/European mix.

There are several words that people mistakenly use interchangeably when talking about bending or persuading others to their will: authority, power, and leadership. I rely heavily on authority because of experience and because of my analytical nature. When I stare you down, I'm not expecting you to retreat because of my stare alone. I assume you see that I examine everything: thinking about how to outsmart, outmanouver, and eventually overpower whatever crap anyone may pull. And I will not pull any punches.

I now found myself in a battle with MixedGenes—both of us staring the other down to determine what kind of opponent we faced. Maybe she simply thought I was disgusting and that she could shrivel me with her gaze. Nobody won because we were interrupted. Trish made the introductions.

"Dante, this is Janet, Summer, Clarissa," she began. Braids quickly waved her hand, Forgettable nodded at me, and Asian beamed.

"Najwa, Angelica, and Angelica." MiddleEastern blinked seductively, and Hipster girl extended her hand and asked me to call her 'Lish'. MixedGenes looked at me as if I had just asked her if the fart smelled like blueberries to her.

"Lorelai and Hunter." Shit, he even has an imposing name. Lorelai acted as if she hadn't met me, except for a twinkle in her eyes, so I pretended the same. When Hunter shook my hand, I was afraid that if he sneezed, he might break one of my bones.

We headed towards a store that had some interesting prices, due to one of the friends getting special discounts for them, since her father owned the store.

The nightmare of simultaneously shopping with eight women began.

***

Twenty-five minutes later, Hunter had decided that he had had twenty minutes of too much shopping and sat down on a bench outside the store. We hadn't even gone to a second store yet.

Those minutes had gone by with me saying "yes" or "no" when asked if I liked it. I held a few items in my right hand, the ones that they had already chosen.

I was watching Trish debating whether or not to purchase a dark red blouse. She was listening to Clarissa's opinion, while the rest listened to the Asian girl. She knew her stuff. The only one not taking mental notes, apparently, was the second Angelica. The owner's daughter. She was sporting a neutral expression, which I guessed substituted her friendly one. I had seen her go from disgusted to demeaning or from disdaining to scoffing; maybe once I thought I saw her simply frowning.

"...and the color doesn't go that well with your complexion. It makes you look...odd," Clarissa said, finishing her assessment.

"Do you like it—" she began to ask, but then Trish made the mistake. She changed the question, asked before I could even answer. "—actually, Dante? Don't say yes or no, what do you think?"

I inhaled, analyzing her. The girls were eyeing me curiously, wondering just how long it would take for me to finally say "uh...I think it looks good"—like the typical guy.

"See, I like the overall way the chosen fabric's texture works with the neckline and how it clings to your shoulders. However, the cutting pattern near the waist will make you look like you gained weight..." Clarissa and the rest gasped at my daring. But I wasn't finished.

"...even if we all know that it isn't true. I know you're in very good shape." I gave her a knowing smirk, and Trish smirked in response. "Clarissa is right. The color doesn't suit you entirely. That is simply because it's one that would flatter a summer girl, but your season is warm spring instead of simply spring, since you tan. Instead, I'd suggest the rust-colored one that you tried before."

Silence.

The girls just stared at me in awe. I thought Clarissa had just become wet from listening to my reasoning. I didn't bother to explain that as a side course, while studying marketing, I had taken a series of courses on personal image. Which explained how I dressed like I did. Other than Angelica, the rest of the group suddenly were more self-conscious about the way they had chosen their clothing for the day. I smirked.

"You are so getting laid, helping a girl look good," a voice said behind me. A shiver ran down my spine. Danielle. There she was, looking as always. Whatever adjective I might think of that described almost unbearably alluring, that, she was. I internally panicked when I realized I was getting hard from just being near her.

"Hey, Dante? What do you think about this one?" Suddenly the girls were interested in the guy's opinion. Summer and Janet were holding things for me to examine, and I realized right then that the mistake had been mine.

As I talked to them, I helped each one choose, but Trish was managing my time because I was brought by her. Danielle had been right. Judging by Trish's expressions, I was getting laid soon. And she—Danielle—had been the only one not getting my full, honest opinion. Yet, I wasn't about to tell her, "Well, although I liked the summer dress more, I think that the skirt over there would let you ride me without taking it off, and I like it more because of that." Which was exactly what was going through my mind.

Three of the girls were trying on random items of clothing, which had left the group smaller. I was helping NiceAngelica—Lish, she corrected me—to pick a patterned shirt, when a hand touched mine.

"Dante, can you help us, please? It'll only take a few minutes."

Electricity flowed from my hand to my body as Danielle kept the contact if only for a second more than needed. She began walking, and I followed her. As I did, I simply admired her beauty and I saw her looking at me through the reflections in the mirrors, by not turning her head. Clever. We trailed around the store, going by certain sections that were not going directly to the dressing rooms, but I would've followed her anywhere. We did end up, however, by them; the curtains were a few feet away from me. Before I could say anything, Danielle talked to the girl in charge of the area. "Hey, I saw this one I liked, but I don't know if you have it in teal...?"

At the same time, from one of the dressing rooms, Trish's voice floated over. "Dante? Did Danielle bring you? I need y'to tell me if this looks good on me."

"Here. In which one are you?"

"Over here,"—a hand in a long sleeve held a door open over at number five. I walked to that spot; the hand pulled me inside. Trish was wearing a silky, oversized white blouse. She drew both hands down, pulled the blouse, and stood before me completely naked. "So? How does this look on me?"

My mouth went dry. I stood there, evaluating our options. What if we got caught? Angelica had looked like someone that wouldn't let this slip by in case we got caught. "I—fuck. I didn't bring any condoms."

Trish bent over and quickly produced a shiny wrapping out of her purse, grinned like a Cheshire cat, and handed it to me. "I'm, like, thinking of going on the pill so we don't have to worry about that."

My erection twitched from the thought. It had been a very long time since I had fucked bareback and the possibility was too tempting. But it would mean a more stable relationship, and I didn't know if—

"We have, like, five minutes, or something, Dante. Make me cum." I dropped my pants but didn't step out of them, pulled the upper garments a bit higher, and rolled the condom on. No time for foreplay. And Trish needed me; I saw that she was wet already.

Placing a hand between her legs so she would open them further, I remembered that the teen enjoyed doggy style more than any other position. I wasn't going to be tender, nor too rough. This was the kind of fuck where speed and efficiency mattered. I aimed my cock and pushed in, not waiting for her to adapt to me.

"Nnnngh..." I liked when she made those sounds. Without wasting time, I was already lowering my frame slightly so I could penetrate her at the angle that I knew rubbed the right spots inside of her. Trish's arousal could be smelled all over the dressing room. "Ah! A—hmmmph!" I covered her mouth with one of my hands, still wet with her arousal. She misinterpreted my intention and started sucking on my fingers while moaning with her mouth closed, licking her own juices from me. That was hot.

I almost came. But kept my cool, thinking about some song just to distract me for a few seconds. Marco and Gina's theme from Il Porco Rosso. "Oh...that feels good," I let her know, using a low volume, hoping the store's background music would drown the wet sounds of our illicit activities.

Pushing deeply to fuck her hard, I heard her body make wet sounds as my invading cock made its way inside over and over again in a short amount of time. Her pussy was already tight. She had probably been fingering herself to prepare for this. It's almost as if her inner muscles didn't want me in; I had to push hard against her tight hole. But once I was inside, it made it hard for me to pull out even slightly.

"You like this, huh?"

She nodded desperately, and I didn't slow down. I looked at her back, arched to take me in as deep as I could go, her shoulders supporting a few strands of her ponytail as my hips pushed into hers, making her whole body tremble with sensations. Her breathing was getting to be more and more uneven as her damp insides underwent more and more friction from my length probing her depths.

My shirt had gone down a few times and I simply didn't care anymore. I felt it sometimes coming between her and me, growing wet with Trish's arousal as our bodies slammed against each other.

While one hand was silencing her, the other worked like a metronome, keeping the pace intact and pulling her body so I could keep drilling into her as deeply as I wanted. My hips sped up; we didn't have time to make her enjoy it leisurely. She had to cum as quickly as I could make her.




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 02



"Do you like my cock?"

She nodded again, whimpering against my mouth. I knew my words were getting stronger by the minute. I would stop whenever she felt uncomfortable. Yet, she had tensed more when I said 'cock'. Good sign. As my movements became faster, my angle changed slightly, trying to make sure that my member made as much contact as possible with the places I knew she loved. Her muscles on her back became taut, and I knew I was doing well.

My legs were burning with the exertion, but there was no time to lose. The head of my cock reached a place it seldom did, and I heard her scream into my mouth. Her knees became weaker, but a second later she pushed against me. I knew my cock was reaching deeper than ever; thankfully, it hadn't been painful. Wherever I was touching, it felt hard. The angle at which she was receiving me and how I entered her allowed deeper penetration. I assumed I was grazing her cervix. I recalled that when I put a lot of pressure on it, it became painful for her. Minding that, my angle changed slightly, and I made sure the contact wasn't too rough.

"Mmmh, fuck yes... Play with yourself, Trish." I could barely say that between my efforts at breathing. Fucking this girl could be a trying physical exercise. I felt a tingling arise within me. She started fingering her pussy, and her vaginal walls tried to entrap me inside of her—the pressure becoming higher and higher.

The way she was hugging me from the inside meant she wasn't far from cumming. A good thing. I couldn't keep such a hard and fast pace without orgasming. She was too attractive to look at, which heightened the sensations of my cock stimulating every inch of her insides. It was starting to feel overwhelming.

"...but I'm also interested in this one." Danielle was still trying to stall the lady in charge, yet she couldn't buy a lot of time.

"Cum, Trish...cum," I barely whispered as my cock went into overdrive. I fucked her as if I wanted to make her lubrication foam with the blistering speed that I used to enter her. "Are you feeling naughty, Trish? Taking my cock in public?" I was still whispering. Trish nodded at my words. I hope I didn't get slapped with the following one. "Take it, bitch," I growled, almost like an animal. "Take it...cum for me."

Trish's reaction was instantaneous. She let her breath out in a very uneven and desperate manner, her body tensed, and her back arched in the ultimate arousal—just seconds away from cumming. Her pussy undulated with force, milking my dick as she came like a brick wall had hit her, moaning her ecstasy into my mouth.

I couldn't handle it. My cock felt like it was about to burst. I felt the stirrings of an orgasm starting, then, without any kind of intermediate ground, a blast of pleasure overwhelmed me. A torrent of semen came out of me, filling the condom with each potent burst, pumping more and more seed into the receptacle as I stayed balls deep inside of the gorgeous teen.

After a few seconds, Trish moved and looked at me with adoration. She got down on her knees, carefully removed the condom, and placed it in a small Ziploc-like bag she had inside her purse. She lovingly sucked my cock to clean it up but retreated after a few seconds.

"Eeew, y'taste like condom lube."

"I wonder why."

She came up to my level and kissed me. "That was hot. Wait here for your cue."

I was stunned. Trish had actually used the word "fuck". She hastily got her clothes on and walked out. I pulled my underwear and pants back on, just in time, since footsteps closed in.

"I'm going to try this one, then, ok?" The door opened and Danielle stepped inside the changing room, looking at me devilishly. She had some blue garments with her. "This is the second time I help you guys."

"Thank you. Are you going to try those on? I can wait here," I told her, smiling.

"You, sir, are incorrigible. You just got some..."

Outside, I could hear Trish telling the attendant that the size was a little off and asking if she could find a smaller one. Meanwhile, Danielle was studying my face. I could tell that it wasn't only me enjoying the tension between us. Her hands went down to her hips and started lifting her blouse—painfully slow.

Knowing that she had a boyfriend who she was serious about, I knew for sure she wouldn't expose herself too much. However, the worry assaulted me. How much could I take before doing something stupid?

There was something in her eyes, too. As I saw more of her skin being within my reach, my breathing got heavier and I exhaled with difficulty. My hand shot out to her.

I held her by the wrist.

"...don't."

It was me, pleading. She looked down and noticed that I was still hard, willing, and able. Barely holding back. She has no idea of how much she affects me, I realized. She gulped and looked into my eyes. I let go of her hand. The way our gazes met was already becoming too much for me. We simply stared at each other, my breathing still not calming down. She was like a deer in headlights, not knowing what to respond to. Even if she wasn't sure about her effect on me, she suddenly knew that if she so much as touched me right then...

I heard the footsteps of the store employee going away with Trish, chatting about sizes. That barely snapped me back.

Not even having control over my mouth, I opened the door and exited the room that reeked of fresh sex. I went into the store, and the wolf pack was already waiting, a few of them smirking. The employee went by with Trish in tow. As she walked near us, the teen congratulated me loud enough to be heard by her friends, maybe even the girl that worked there. "I swear, all those times I thought I was getting laid properly, and then I met you."

I simply bowed at Trish, focusing on her and trying not to think of Danielle. Apparently, orgasming lowered her inhibitions. A few of her friends were looking at me under an absolutely different light. Najwa had disbelieving shock written on her face and DeridingAngelica simply sported disapproval. But she didn't do anything to get me arrested, so I took that as a victory.

When Trish and Danielle came back, the teen clung to me and Danielle kept a healthy distance.

"Well, Jason is out there talking to Hunter. Seems they're talking about the game. You want to join them?" Danielle politely gave me a way out of it.

"Uh—no. I couldn't care less about sports. I do, however, have to check with the creative team if we're all set for tomorrow's presentation." I meant Hernán having the file ready—which it was.

"Are y'leaving?" Trish pouted.

"I have to."

"But you're not seeing me for two weeks!"

"It's work..."

Trish gave me a deep kiss in front of her friends, one of whom whistled. NiceAngelica, I believed. "Don't forget, Mis—me." She almost called me 'Mister' in front of her friends. That would've been too much and she believably amended it, making it sound like "miss me."

"I won't," I smirked. I nodded towards her friends without saying it had been a pleasure, since it would've been a lie in some cases. I turned around and left the premises, slightly sweaty and still smelling like Trish.

***

"After those considerations, 'that which makes you stronger' didn't seem like a good slogan. How about simply writing 'stronger' with larger letters? Quicker to read, easier to remember, and we don't even have to do any kind of trademark since it's an internal publication.

"Here is where we take Hernán's design into play and mix it with the phrase. The level of awareness among employees should be the one we're aiming for."

I finished the presentation. Hernán looked, with all his trust placed on me, nervous. Jim looked at me, nodding. I knew how marketing worked with men like him. Men that had grown used to certain ideas and thought they knew better. Instead of generating new concepts for him, I talked to Jim, listened to him, and analyzed what he thought and said. I took that, repackaged it, made it as marketable as I could, and pitched it back. Creativity wasn't going to work with him. His own ideas were the only ones he would accept.

"You're damn good, Dante." As expected, Jim loved his own idea.

I nodded as thanks and pointed with my open palm towards Hernán, giving him the credit he deserved. Knocking on the door, Louis Archer, Jim's assistant, looked at his boss with questioning eyes.

"We're done, Louis." Jim waited for him to go on with his business.

"Dante? You've got a call from a video producing company—they've been calling you. The guy says it's urgent."

Jim nodded and the meeting was done. I thanked Louis and went to my larger cubicle, which they insisted on calling "office".

"Dante Acidaque speaking."

"Dante. Gabriel was in his apartment."

"The dork. What was he doing?"

"He's dead."

The world didn't stop. My feelings didn't burst out. I didn't know how to react, so I didn't react.

"Oh. I...I see. I'm off at five. Can you call me at that time?"

"Sure."

I hung up, and my brain still refused to process the thoughts. I buried myself with a crushing amount of work that didn't even allow me to think at all. Before I knew it, my phone—displaying 5:01 p.m.—was buzzing again. A call from him.

"Pan," I simply greeted him.

"They called Alice from Gabriel's work. He hadn't shown up. She got the landlord to open the apartment for her and he was in his bedroom. It's weird—it seems as if he died in his sleep. Heart failure or something." I refused to believe that. Gabriel worked out, ate better than most men our age, and, while not being in shape like me (even less like Pan), he was quite healthy. Pan took my silence as a sign to continue explaining.

"It happened on Friday night, apparently. They've been examining him and they have no reason to believe foul play. No foreign substances found in his body. The door wasn't forced."

"Does his family have some kind of history for this kind of thing?"

"Not that they know of. His father's coming back from Europe. And, Dante?"

"Yes?"

"On the medical report and around his room, they found..." At first I thought that Pan was trying to hold back the tears. Then I realized he was trying not to laugh, even if there was evident sorrow in his voice. "They determined he had had an orgasm before he died. They also found dove blood and lion fur in his room."

I snorted with melancholy. I might have been the mysterious one always, but Gabriel had been the unpredictable element. The findings seemed like a typical Gabriel thing. Even in his death, he kept randomly surprising us.

Pan wasn't offended with my snorting. He and I were the only ones that could understand it. I heard sniffling in the background. Maria, I guessed. "They're burying him tomorrow evening. They're doing a mass, too," my friend informed me.

"That's—well, I'll see you there."

"Sure. Dante?"

"Yes?"

"Please take care."

"I will."

***

I had managed to wear half the pajamas. I was shirtless, on my bed, staring at the ceiling. It was white.

The doorbell announced Danielle. I opened the door cautiously. Most people wouldn't understand it, but I react differently than the average guy, not only when given bad news. "Hey, neighbor?" She looked terribly cute, worried and looking up at me.

"Yes?"

"It's awfully quiet. I can normally hear what you're doing. You've been here, but it's been too quiet. The walls are thin and it's—are you OK?" I don't know what came over me, but I didn't even warn her. I simply hugged her, fiercely. She froze in place.

After a few seconds, I felt her tiny hands on my back, embracing me too. I cannot say how long we stayed like that, but eventually, we took a step back and she looked at me again, repeating her question, "Are you OK?"

"No, not really."

"Can I help you?"

You see, this is where it's different. When I'm sad, nothing takes care of it for me like sex. I sadly smiled at her, lust etched on my face. "You can't help me how I need it." And I really wish you could.

Amazingly, she didn't look disgusted at me, or anything of the sort. Perhaps she misunderstood how I worked, but she got to the correct conclusion. "Trish leaves tomorrow morning. I'm going to call her."

"Thank you," I said. I extended my hand, touching her cheek tenderly. She almost stepped away from me, but stayed there. We stared at each other. She looked away and dialed the number, walking back to her apartment. I closed the door but left it unlocked and went to my room.

Thirty minutes later, I heard the door open and insecure steps became louder as she neared my room. Trish was looking worried. "Dante?"

"Hey." She asked tons of questions but my only answer was telling her I didn't feel like talking about it. Eventually, she stripped down to her underwear and joined me on the bed, hugging me. I looked at her. She gave me a comforting smile and kissed my forehead.

"I don't get you. If men, like, came with instruction manuals, yours would be, like, 500 pages longer."

I managed to get into a new mindset, if only temporarily, and I said with a less-dry tone, "We're here to fuck, not talk."

"Omigosh, that's so romantic!" Trish intertwined her fingers and batted her eyelashes, mock-swooning due to my comment. That made me snort, at least, and my sulken mood dampened a bit. Trish began kissing my neck and trailing down. I buried my hand in her hair, inhaling her scent. It was what I needed. All I had to do was focus on what was happening and nothing else.

The lights hadn't been turned on. The waning moonlight pooled in, crawling along her skin. Trish's silhouette was barely visible, enhancing the sensuality of the scene. There was a softness to the whole ambience that seemed appropriate for sex that wouldn't be tiring, simply fulfilling.

She had stopped kissing my upper abs, although she planned to go lower. I pulled her gently by the hair, back up. I hugged her and took in the pleasure of her warm skin against mine. I kissed her with need but not desperation. She sighed gently into my mouth as our hands went up and down each other's physique, our athletic bodies being a turn-on to each other, our arousal coming from feeling our shapes, rather than simply looking at each other in the waning light.

When I looked in her eyes, I don't know what she saw, but she took my face between her hands and kissed the tip of my nose. My arms enveloped her to undo her bra. It only took two tries in the awkward position. She lifted her hips and lowered her panties down to her knees. I took them the rest of the way until it was only me wearing something.

I got rid of my pajama bottoms and was left in boxer briefs. I lowered my body against hers, trying to have as much contact with her skin as possible, my hands finding her hips and pressing her to me. Her warmth extended to my body in a comforting embrace. Trish wrapped her arms around my neck as we breathed heavily, taking our time, enjoying each other.

My hips were moving in and out slowly, pressing my hardened cock against her entrance, with only the fabric between us. She moaned sultrily and arched her back. Her hands traveled down and squeezed my ass gently. After a few seconds of that, she found her way inside of my underwear, her touch making me tremble when she grasped my manhood. Trish lowered my underwear slowly, with one hand. She grasped my ass to press me to her; with the other, she guided my cock until it was pressed against her skin. I was about to protest when she simply asked for my silence.

"Shhh..." Trish had a different plan. The way she positioned my cock against her made penetration impossible. I would be sliding against her lips in a parallel line. The touch of her skin against mine in a way we hadn't experienced before made the decision for me. I began moving, pressing, and sliding all my length along her slit.

"Mmmmh." My tone was something between a moan and a growl.

As if I had told her something important, she nodded in agreement. She was soaking wet by then, our movements unimpeded by any friction. I knew the underside of my cock was pressing against her clit, and the inches going back and forth forced her to breathe in a struggling manner. She shifted her hips so more of her nether region would touch my hardness as it slid with a motion that I wasn't controlling anymore. Neither was she. Our minds had nothing to do with what was happening between us. I felt the base of my cock press harder against her clit when I was pushing all the way, then pull back until the tip was grazing the uppermost section of her lower lips.

I pressed on. Trish simultaneously changed the angle of her hips, and that time it didn't go up. My hardened cock took a new path. Instead of the underside of my organ caressing her, I felt her skin now massaging mine. The wetness was enveloping me, hot and accepting—her muscles tenderly holding my cock, the sensation of skin against skin—driving me crazy as my bare cock went all the way inside of her.

"Yesss..." Trish tenderly hissed the word in satisfaction.

I stayed inside of her, letting her warmth wrap me, but there was something in the back of my mind telling me about a topic I didn't want to care about. I pulled back, feeling her unprotected pussy's texture create sensations against my naked cock. I gasped.

She hummed happily.

The cool night air felt even colder when the coating of her juices touched it. The fresh sensation in my skin made me snap out of it. She noticed, placed both her hands on my ass and forcibly made me sink into her again, the sensations becoming addicting as her body claimed my cock. I honestly tried to say something.

"I... I have to—"

"Don't," she pleaded. "It's so good..."

"We can't," I attempted, "what if—" I hadn't noticed that my body had pulled back slightly and she was fucking herself with my body, pulling and pushing my hips in and out of herself. That time there were no sounds of her wetness greedily taking me in; but the sensations were mind-numbing, our bodies having nothing to separate them.

"I'll take the morning-after pill," she assured me.

I have no idea where the willpower came from, but I did the only thing that would stop me from going any further with the risk. I knew that pill wasn't foolproof. My course of action was decided. I sank all the way in, my pelvis pressing hard so it would stimulate her clit with my weight. Trish let her breath go out.

Looking straight into her eyes, no longer clouded by lust and knowing exactly what I was doing, I gave her one simple instruction: "Savor this." My lips barely moved. My hips moved out almost all the way to dislodging myself from her. Trish looked at me expectantly and her hands grabbed on to the sheets.

With a series of thrusts that were full, deep, and fast, I invaded her body—the feeling being more than electric. Her body wanted my cum and she arched her back, gasping for breath as my cock touched her directly in all the right places, her insides trying to milk me. I fucked her furiously like that for only a few seconds before pulling out.

She looked at me with despair. I stood up and went over to the nightstand to fetch a condom. I shivered, my body screaming at me to go back and claim her bareback; we both wanted it. I knew the feeling of cumming inside a girl and it was too good. Thank goodness for the small functioning part of my brain.

With my teeth and one hand, I proceeded to open the condom wrapper when she jumped towards me and sucked me. Watching her devour me with her juices still on me made me groan. I felt precum seeping out of my cock slowly. She licked it and then pulled back, looking at me.

"We taste so good together."

I trembled. But still managed to control myself. I placed the condom on my cock to my reassurance and frustration. She stood up and kissed me, her tongue sharing our flavors with me. She was right. We didn't simply taste like sex. We tasted like undiluted desire.




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 02



Trish, resigned, pulled me back to the bed and laid down, surrendering to me.

I was going to take what I needed from her. When having sex, nothing is greater for me than triggering orgasms so I can cum when she's tight. I moved slowly but deliberately, searching for new zones of skin where she might be sensitive that might have been overlooked before.

Without resistance, my cock slid into her and I set up a deep, methodic motion meant for her to cum soon. My hands weren't stopping anywhere unless I got a change in her breathing or a moan in response. Taking mental notes of a spot behind her knee and another on her side, right where her ribs ended, I plunged in and out without changing the pace.

Trish was well on her way to a good orgasm; she had her eyes closed, her face letting me know how much she enjoyed every inch of me inside of her. I opened my mouth and licked one of my fingers. I rubbed right on the opposite side of her knee. She shuddered almost violently.

The rhythm of my hips was unchanging, yet she was steadily getting closer. I needed to trigger her orgasm. My right hand found her hips and my fingers barely made contact with her. Slowly, they trailed up until I bestowed feathery touches on her side, caressing her with almost a tickling motion as my cock struggled to push her over the brink.

I succeeded.

Her eyes were closed, but now shut forcibly as she shivered and then became tense. Her hands trembled as she pulled the sheets towards the ceiling when her orgasm hit her. Trish shut down for a moment, her hungry pussy trying to keep me in place, as deep as I was in her. I was so close I only needed to thrust in and out a few times within her tightness.

My own orgasm bubbled within me, extending from my core to every inch of my being. I grunted when I felt my balls emptying. My cock pulsed within the confines of her pussy, and I was aware of every single jet of warm cum pouring out of me—our bodies entwined in the closest thing we had had to a simultaneous orgasm.

I regained my senses when she tapped me on my shoulder. "Mister...you're crushing me..."

Snorting, I rolled over to one side. My cock was still twitching when I got rid of the condom. I knew the rigidity would go away soon. It had been a draining orgasm for many reasons. "Thank you," I sincerely added, before everything hit me, and I fell into a slumber that was almost unconsciousness.

***

I woke up when my cell phone's alarm went off. Automatically, I took the damn gadget, and felt paper on it. Dismissing the alarm, I read the post-it note on top of the phone.

"U look grumpy even when u sleep 

Texted u a pic.

Hope u like it!

-Trish"

I checked the cell phone; indeed I had received a text.

There was a picture attached. You could see Trish's bust; her nipples weren't visible, but it was obvious she wasn't wearing anything. She came out winking seductively, but she wasn't smiling. The head of my cock had disappeared inside her mouth and she was sucking on it passionately.

"For U 2 remember me by! U went soft almost right away. Sorry it's not my best angle."

I was getting hard just from looking at the picture, but there was no time to waste. I had to be at work after taking a shower.

***

The day went by in a blur at work. I was wearing all black. I didn't have to stop at home to change.

The funeral wasn't huge. Gabriel hadn't been the most sociable person on earth. His ashes were held in a beautiful jar while most prayed. I was ticked because those of us who had known him were aware of his request of not having a religious funeral. But the last goodbye is not for the deceased. It's for those of us who are left behind, if only temporarily.

René Verdin, his father, looked down at the floor in impotent fury. He looked at me and nodded, just like he had to Pan, Ralph, and Galahad—my brother who had flown in just a few hours ago.

Ralph was muscled, even for an ex-linebacker, and you could see it in his suited frame. He held the hand of Gabrielle, who wept silently for her son. Pan had his girlfriend in his arms. Even in moments like this, they looked stunning, painting-worthy.

I heard shuffling steps to my right. Alice was looking at me as she hugged herself, pressing her small frame against mine. I embraced her, kissing her forehead chastely and letting her cry against my shoulder.

There were a few pictures of him; the main one was rightly chosen. Gabriel's hair touched his chin and he looked like an alternative rock band bassist. Mike was also in the picture. He should've realized that the death of someone close would've meant an ephemeral truce, if only to pay his respects. Maybe he did realize and just decided against it, showing the kind of person he was, again. There were six of us guys in the picture, all standing: Ralph, Galahad, Gabriel, Pan, Mike, and me. It had been taken right before I went away to university. We did look like a boy band, just like Ralph's sister used to tease us.

Later, the core group of friends sat down. We were remembering good times with Gabriel and my brother quoted him again. "We gotta live life to the foolest," he said, his baritone voice barely reaching us, his eyebrow lifted in the typical Gabriel fashion.

A few of us laughed sadly; the rest smiled, even Alice. The evening felt like the beginning of a new stage in life. I looked at the day perishing and found that this loss didn't drag me down; it was pushing me to live, to enjoy everything I had yet to experience.

I nodded to myself, knowing that more than something, there was someone I wanted.




A/N: Thank you for the kind words in the last chapter's comments and those sent to me via email. This chapter is here because of you (and my editor's awesome skills). Yes, there was a webcomic reference in this chapter.



An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 03



Thanks to LadyVer for editing this.




Trish's text reached me hours later.

"flight canceled :(
new flight departs 2morro.
still in town 2day.
cu46?"

I smirked at my phone. So Danielle was in my sight. A little fun before that wouldn't hurt the whole "friends with benefits" that Trish and I had; it brought only perks.

After the funeral, I felt somehow liberated. I knew that within the "boy band"—the inner circle of Gabriel, Pan, and me—had been a small universe of like-minded individuals who had found each other by chance. With one gone, I felt like an endangered species but motivated at the same time. I wouldn't allow things to go unfinished, nor allow obstacles to prevent me from getting what I wanted. Whom I wanted—Danielle—was in a long-term relationship. Due to principles, the "all's fair in love and war" was definitely out of the question. Which meant that I had to either wait until she and Baldy broke up, or wait for my chance to see if I could cleanly win her over.

I texted the response back. "Already in my underwear."

Pulling my laptop out, I nested on the couch to work on a series of possible improvements for the upcoming slogan. No progress. The prospect of sex had only produced one result: my underwear felt tighter.

I had rearranged the living room so the couch would face the apartment's entrance and the TV at the same time. I played the waiting game as well as I could, and fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door. That was fast!

"It's unlocked. Come in," I said in a low voice, somewhat raspy with lust. My laptop was promptly closed and set aside. The door opened to reveal the feminine figure, and I smiled slowly.

"Uh...Dante?"

"Danielle. Oh, wow. Hmmm," I said, exuding eloquence. "Well, this is unnecessarily awkward."

My arm darted for the closest available cushion and covered my boxer briefs, which had shown the outline of my swollen manhood. I heard her breathe in and out for a few seconds. I got harder and my muscles tensed, but I forced myself to stay put instead of doing all that I wanted to do. I hated that even her breathing got a reaction out of me.

"I'd better return later," she managed to say.

"No, no, it's ok. What's up?" It had been my intention to leave the desire out of my voice. I didn't succeed spectacularly. What was thrilling for me was that Danielle had trouble speaking while looking at me in my underwear. Modesty aside, I know that I'm not hard to look upon. This kind of reaction makes all the workouts worth it.

"A light went out in my apartment, and I have this ladder that I bought a few months ago. It was on sale." Danielle couldn't hide her nervousness. "It's kinda green and has, I believe, five steps. So they had a bunch of ladders for sale, but there was only one that I could fit in my car and...anyway, the thing is that I tried to replace the light, but I can't reach it. I'm too short."

The last phrase had been said with a feeling of powerlessness that reminded me of the tone I would use when I dropped an ice cream cone when I was a kid. It was adorable.

"I'll do it," I said, standing up immediately and walking towards her. Her eyes opened wider. "Right. Give me one second, and I'll be there."

A few minutes later I was in Danielle's living room looking at the light bulb and she was holding the ladder for me. The piece of glass had a dark stain, which made me wonder what had happened to cause that.

"Can you hand me the new one? Thanks."

I started unscrewing the light when I tried to change my footing. It looked as if I had lost my balance, and Danielle grabbed my legs from the side. I hadn't been in danger, but the touch sent shivers up and down my spine, ending right between my legs. I felt her nose above my knee. The position was quite tempting for me.

"Got good reflexes for a clumsy girl," I said, unscrewing the light. My fingers grazed something and then electricity flowed between Danielle and me. Quite literally. After a fraction of a second, I was able to get my hand out. She screamed, more scared than hurt.

"What was that?"

"Sorry, I cannot control my effect on women." I looked at her.

Danielle just stared at me, letting me know how dumb she thought that was. Then she laughed. It had the typical effect on me.

After letting her know there was an exposed wire, I descended the ladder. "Now, this is just waiting to happen again. I would recommend getting an actual electrician that knows what he's doing because circuits and stuff like that are nothing short of sorcery to me."

I was already standing beside her, with the ladder folded neatly.

"Thank you! I owe you. If you need anything, let me know!"

Stupidly, I looked into her eyes. Automatically, something happened between us—intangible, yet, quite real. You can start by going down on your knees, lowering my pants and... "Don't mention it." Even if I had just thought the other part, I didn't need to say it. My eyes had been quite obvious. Smooth, Dante, smooth.

However, to my utter surprise, she took her hand, inched forward, and touched my chest. A warm sensation spread from where our bodies made contact and I knew I wasn't the only one feeling it, her eyes half-closed in a discreet but still sultry expression. What is she thinking? Dante, you're going to hate yourself, but you'll have to—

"Y'look hawt," a voice said behind me using a blatant East Coast accent. "Tank top and jeans..."

"Trish! Are you all right?" Danielle was understandably confused. There was some apprehension in her voice; maybe she was concerned that Trish had actually seen the weight behind the simple gesture between my neighbor and me.

"Yeah, flight got totally delayed. I depart tomorrow..." Trish looked at her friend, then signaled me with her eyes. "...and I thought that maybe Dante wanted to kill some time and feel better after whatever happened."

My shoulders sagged slightly when reminded of Gabriel, but I took the opportunity and walked towards Trish. My 'f-buddy' was about to get some serious action, and I needed to stay away from Danielle before I tried anything stupid. Or dishonorable.

"Oooh, I bet you're playing chess! Can I watch?" Danielle said in a mocking tone, but when she mentioned watching, my head snapped towards her before I could help it. Her face turned a nice shade of red.

"Sorry, I'm about to go without this..." Trish patted the button of my jeans. "...for almost two weeks. I'm not sharing...today."

Danielle's eyes went wide. Mine too. I knew that Trish was more open regarding sex when it came to certain friends like Danielle, but it was unclear if she was joking. My mind was already in overdrive, and it was incredible picturing the teen and my neighbor with me in a room under very different circumstances. Trish took me by the hand and pulled me towards my apartment with a smirk on her face.

"Holy shit, you're hard!"

"Well, I have been expecting sex for a while now." Among other things.



"Did y'like th'picture?"

"Very much so. I wish I had been awake, however."

"I hear ya." Trish smirked, and then her face lit up. "I have an idea, then..."

I was almost disrobed by then, but I stopped to look at her. She motioned me to continue shedding my clothes. I walked back and closed the door before proceeding. She removed her clothes as well, and we were now both quite nude. The tan tone of her skin accentuated the curves of her heavenly breasts. Her hands held something. My hardness was pointing at her with desperate need. She bent over while I approached the nearest spot where I had hidden condoms.

Right before I opened the wrapping, Trish stopped me. "Not yet! Here, hold on to this." She handed me her phone, which had a light on.

Trish knelt down and slightly caressed my balls, kissing them delicately, which in turn made me groan. I looked at her smartphone. It was in video mode, recording. Thinking of what it was about to witness, I shuddered and aimed at her. Trish was working hard to get some precum out of me, jacking me off and kissing the underside of my penis. I exhaled with need.

"Do y'like this? Or what I do in five minutes?" Trish's tone was coy.

"What?" I was going to ask something else, but she deep-throated me. The cell phone showed how she took it all in.

"I'm not talking to you right now. I'm talking to you in two days when y'see this video," she informed the cell phone. "Do y'remember, Dante?"

Instead of asking, I simply let her do whatever she was thinking of. Turned out to be a slow, luscious lick that went from the base of my cock to the tip; then she lashed her tongue quickly and repeatedly over the crown. My moan couldn't be held back.

"Do y'remember what that felt like?" Trish batted her eyes slowly, lustfully. "Or do y'prefer this memory?"

I braced myself.

She put both hands on my ass and started a bobbing motion, pulling herself against me, sucking hard as she greedily took all of my length in. Trish moaned into my cock as she devoured it with the passion of someone thoroughly enjoying what she was doing. A hissing sound slipped from between my lips.

The teen extended her hand towards me, expectantly, without stopping the suction on my penis. After finally registering what she wanted, I handed her the phone. My dick came out of her lips, rock hard, as she continued jacking me off. She was recording now from her perspective, her other hand still working me.

"I just love how thick this is," she breathily muttered to the phone while she took herself out of the frame and focused on her hand and my groin. I took her word for it. "...and these, God, they kill me." Trish was now caressing my abs with barely contained desire, and then she tilted the phone up to focus on my face. "Can y', like, do that moan for me, Dante?"

I knew better than to ask which one. She wrapped her pretty lips around my shaft and sucked on it hungrily, her tongue lashing as she bobbed her head slowly; then I hit the back of her throat. With all the simultaneous stimulation, a low growl came out instead of a moan.

"That's th'one...every time y'do that, I get so wet." Trish was narrating for future references, but that didn't stop me from looking at her with hunger.

"Enough, Kid." I produced the wrapper again, got rid of it as soon as the condom was free, and placed it correctly. "I'm going to fuck you. Now."

Trish attempted to yelp and moan at the same time; it came out as something in between that would've been comical—if not for the crazed lust in her eyes and my deep breathing. She stood upright and went straight for the bed, found a place that would allow the phone to record from the nightstand, and stared up at me, expectantly but timidly.

I attacked her, took both her wrists in my hands, and pinned her back to the bed. My mouth went straight for her neck, and bit, as my knees tried to make her open her legs. Trish immediately did so. My fingernails trailed from her wrists, down past her elbows, below her shoulders, and to her hips. I steadied myself with one hand. With the other, I directed my solid manhood into her. In one fluid motion, I got every single inch of me inside of her.

She whispered something in ecstasy, her eyes closed due to the pleasure. Her tan skin already had some dampness to it and she was beginning to sweat. My body needed some adjustment in its positioning. After propping myself up to be in line with her, I immediately began pumping in and out of Trish, trying to pilfer moans out of her.

The new position provided better support, allowing my hands to flank Trish's face. My upper back stayed flat and my feet were firmly positioned on the bed. I moved only my hips. My circular movement ensured that my pelvis grazed her clit when we were joined to the fullest. Every time I pulled back, I took as little time as possible before ramming in again. I felt my ass working in that arrangement.

Trish lifted her head as if something had hit her. She stared at me with her teeth bared, using her trademark I-can't-believe-you-make-me-feel-this-good expression. I kept that motion for a little longer, relishing the friction her walls caused on my dick, watching her pretty face as the sensations overwhelmed her. She was getting closer, probably because how naughty it felt for her to make a video.

My left hand kept on sustaining the position that shifted slightly. I was now on top of Trish. I began to drill down to her, making sure our groins rubbed firmly together to stimulate her fully. My right hand went straight to her face. I took her by the chin and addressed her with a raspy voice. "Like it?"

She nodded quickly, looking at me.

"Don't tell me," I grunted before I could continue, making her face the cell phone recording us. "Look at the camera."

She nodded at the camera, her pussy tightening.

"Say it."

"I...I like it..." Trish's voice was velvety with need.

"What do you like, Trish?"

I began pumping faster, keeping her facing the device as my body invaded hers, producing wet sounds, as the bed creaked in agreement.

"Dante, I..."

"Say it or I'll stop."

"I...like...I like how...your cock makes me feel."

Honestly, that sent shivers up and down my spine—more than I allowed myself to show. I just went at it harder. Trish began exhaling with each deep penetration.

"How about this?" I stopped to quickly adjust our positions. Making certain that her back was against the bed, my hands went for her thighs, bending her so her knees were almost touching her ears, her pussy completely exposed to me. My body adjusted the angle so my cock would go straight into her depths. A single, purposeful thrust got me balls deep. She emitted a short scream of pleasure, turning to find my eyes.

"Don't look at me," I said, motioning towards the cell phone.

"It's...so...good..."

Taking it as my cue, I lifted most of my body before letting my weight drive me into her, changing the angle of my hips slightly to ensure that the head of my cock massaged every inch of her desperate pussy.

"YES!"

I grunted with pleasure when her muscles squeezed me. The only option was to continue like that—so I did, using all of my weight to bring a devastating orgasm upon us. My teeth showed with the effort, and Trish looked at the camera with an almost despairing look.

"Do you like that cock?"

"Yes! God, yes!"

When I used a little bit of extra strength to fuck her as hard as I needed, her legs unfolded, but I kept them pinned to ensure she felt every tiny fraction of my hardness inside of her. That made her toe slap the cell phone, causing the ceiling to be recorded.

I didn't stop to fix that. I gave my all to fucking her thoroughly. The bed creaked with every heavy thrust into her. Just by listening to the wicked sounds of her moaning and the bed creaking, I felt like a sex god. My body couldn't take that treatment for long, however. I knew Trish was as close as I was.

"Who...fucks you good, Trish?" I could barely speak.

"You, Dante!" Trish had her eyes closed, lost in the temporary paradise of having an unforgiving cock driven into her without pause. "Oh, God, you! Y'fuck me so good!"

Hearing her swear like that was it. Air went between my teeth as I felt the orgasm start as a base sensation in my cock, expanding as I prepared to fill the condom. It went from there to my balls, my core, and torso. My back tensed with the last efforts, and I experienced the sensations going full circle as my hardness erupted with hot cum pouring out savagely.

Trish came at that instant, her pussy clamping down on me, her nails again digging into my skin. I was too far gone to care. The second jet of semen went into the condom when her legs shook, trying to wrap around me. I didn't allow that to happen. I needed to be in her as deep as possible. When the third burst of seed came out, Trish stopped breathing and went rigid.

The final emissions of my essence were disorienting, I kept pumping for as long as I could, just to seal her orgasm nicely. I was barely able to prevent myself from collapsing on top of her.

After our breathing calmed down, I pulled out from her and gave her a confident smirk. "Ok. I believe you. I fucked you good."

Trish groaned, partly in aftershocks of pleasure, partly deriding my comment. I discarded the condom and picked the cell phone up, putting her on frame.

The young woman looked as if a rugby team had fucked her—her hair was a mess, one of her legs trembled slightly every now and then, her breathing was heavy, and her eyes were disoriented. I laughed in a low tone and then focused the cell phone on me.

"That's how you make a woman cum," I informed the device, and then stopped recording.

A few minutes had gone by before Trish was able to collect herself.

"Now, let's be smart about this and don't upload it anywhere," I said, trying to reason with her. "These things have a way of getting on XTube or RedTube or whatever clever name those websites have, then the video comes back to haunt you."

"Do y'watch porn, too?"

"Uh...I'm a guy? And I don't usually get laid—so, frequently."

"Favorite star? Male."

"James Deen. Do you even know—"

"He's th'shit."

My look let her know I was appraising her differently with this new piece of info. She continued before I could say anything else.

"I won't survive another go with y'right now, so let's talk about it."

"Sure thing. Who's your favorite female star?"

***

Trish walked out of my apartment early the next morning with a funny gait, looking like a million dollars. Bowlegged million dollars.

The only eventful thing at work was that we didn't have anything new to do, nor anything programmed for the next few days, as my boss had to show the ideas before we invested too much time in them. How the decision-making process ever finished and became efficient, I never knew. Hernán did let me know, however, that I should prepare. Before I left, he gave me some quick advice.

"Whenever there's nothing to do for days, it means that we're gonna get a ton of crap later. Jim feels like we didn't work for our paycheck enough, so he tries to compensate." Hernán managed not to look like a lone gazelle in the Serengeti spotting a lion while talking to me. Mostly. I still made quite the impression, I guess.

I nodded silently, but it was obvious I was thanking him for the heads-up. That meant that I had time to work out some and play harp, or do something to get my mind off of other topics.

***

The trainer on the video was encouraging me not to give up. My arms trembled as I did another pull-up. The doorbell announced Danielle. I paused the video and opened the door. She was looking...not so cheerful.

"I'm so not going to knock on the door again." She was apparently attempting to joke about last night, but her mood was obvious.

"I can't blame you." I offered a polite smile and showed her in.

Her eyes were downcast but she still managed to look fine beyond any need; her heavenly-proportioned body wasn't marred by her expression. Danielle suddenly really looked at me and saw that I was dripping sweat. "Oh! Sorry! You're busy, I'll—"

"Nonsense. Tell me."

"No, no, no. I'd better go—"

"Danielle, I insist."

It took us a while to reach a compromise: I'd work out and she'd talk to me. She needed to vent some frustration, and all her friends had been busy. That ended up with me lowering the volume on the TV, following the killer routine of ungodly variations of push-ups. Danielle commented every now and then to appear interested in that, but mostly she talked about her and Jason. She kept on mentioning how they went out for dinner, the way they talked at night, how work sometimes was overwhelming...




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 03



I knew by now that Danielle normally talked a lot and needed to make sure there was context.

"...but it's not the same, you know? All those things, they're not as before. There's something missing. I feel like our hearts aren't into it, you know? I feel he's getting distant and I don't do enough to keep him close."

That perked my interest. She and Jason having issues, huh. The angel on my shoulder had long ago tried to stop me from being a saint; his policy was mostly "don't be a jerk"—and I listened. Mostly. I hated myself for doing it, but realistically, if I made the relationship fail, it could backfire on me and make me lose any chances with her—if the intention was discovered.

"Why don't you try to rekindle the fire with new activities?" I more or less said that between grunts of exertion.

"Don't what?"

"Rekindle?"

"It's ree-kin-dle, not ruh-kin-dle..."

"Eh, ESL moment."

"Really?" Her eyes looked big with unbridled curiosity. "What's your first language?"

"That comes later." I mentally slapped myself for giving that away. I wasn't ashamed of my origins. I simply had a lot of areas in my life I had determined I wouldn't share. "Look, I recently read that going out on a date"—gasp before ending a set of tricep push-ups—"with other couples makes you closer to your significant other."

That advice was too honest. Why didn't I think of something else that could've been not as helpful? I did notice that her curiosity about me wasn't forgotten, but she let it rest for the time being.

"For real? I think that's awesome!" I was glad she sounded a bit more like herself. Danielle eyed me thankfully. "I'm so doing that ASAP!"

I stood up to go into the post-workout stretching. Danielle took that opportunity to hug me, sweat notwithstanding, squeaking a "thank you!"

Obviously, I hugged back. With barely any breath left, I said something like "don't mention it." But I kind of mumbled it, kind of gasped it, and it was unintelligible. I looked down to rephrase it.

At the same time, since she didn't understand, Danielle looked up. With my head going down, her lips brushed against my neck. My intake of breath was automatic—just as my pressing her body against mine with tense need was. She gave one small exhalation that sounded almost like arousal. I let her go immediately, although the damage was already done.

My dreadfully sexy neighbor, however, didn't seem to mind that much and looked at me with a strange curving of the lips, almost a smile. As if she couldn't figure me out just yet. Justifiably. It could be said that I harmlessly flirted with her, and always reacted as if I wanted her madly—and I did—yet, I had just helped her out with her current relationship.

"Don't think I'm forgetting the ESL slip, Dante," Danielle said, her voice not as cheery as before but silkier. The tone went straight to my groin and I remembered that I was supposed to be stretching, so I did the typical calf stretch that required me to bend over. "I'll let you know how it goes," she informed me with the same tone before closing the door after herself.

"Fuck," I cursed, under my breath. Hard again.

***

Hernán had not been kidding. There had been absolutely nothing to do and all the looks Jim, our boss, gave us, were ominous. So I welcomed the distraction when my phone buzzed. Message from an unknown sender.

"Busy tonight?"

"Wrong number?"

"Danielle here. Trish gave me your #"

I attempted to control my imagination, hormones, and expectations. With limited success.

"My friend's date cancelled; we're going to the double date and we bed a handsome man."

I was getting too aroused, but the next message arrived.

"We NEED a handsome man. Stupid auto correction. Can Jason and I count on you?"

Unfortunately, that made more sense. "Sure. Where and when?"

"8 at Lamyong."

"Fancy. See you there."

***

At 8:00 p.m., I was outside the high-end Thai restaurant. The lights were attractive, a warm tone that softened the ambience. The music was well-selected, appropriate to transport the client to a more exotic mindset. Very good taste in decoration, with wooden Buddhas and blatant Thailand references all over. I asked for the table under Jason or Danielle. None existing. The hostess suggested the other woman's name when I mentioned it was a double date. I couldn't imagine what it could be.

At 8:05 the three of them arrived. Danielle looked as if she had just come out of a Mad Men episode in a retro dress and matching green earrings. I mentally patted myself on the back for not orgasming right then. She looked stunning. To my disbelief, Jason looked more at me than at her. I was wearing nice clothes, for sure, but—was that a look of worry?

With Danielle looking awe-inspiring, I hadn't immediately looked at the third person. Angelica. The woman of mixed genes. I discovered different possible ancestries. Her skin was dark but not overly so; her hair reminded me of the Caribbean islands; her eyes were slightly oblique, as if Hawaiian; and her eyes were a dark shade of green. I still couldn't place my finger on where she was from. Her pixy haircut was great on her, but she always looked as if the world offended her; an air of superiority and derision was ever-present.

Well, fuck.

***

While eating, I barely stopped myself from talking back in a harsh way to Angelica, but she kept on pushing the right buttons to make me upset. It began with a "of course I don't have anything against poor people! In fact, I even dated a poor guy once! Of course, he and I ended up breaking up because what kind of future could he offer?"

Her second strike was a few minutes later with "and if one of my sons turns out to be gay, well, I'd take him to a brothel until he gets rid of that."

I inhaled to respond, but a pleading look from Danielle with apologetic undertones restrained me. Barely. Yet, there was something else that was bothering me. It hit me when Jason asked the waitress to change the sauces: Angelica had never asked for a thing. She continually spoke in a way that made her desires obvious but she didn't "swoop down" to ask for things. Her comment had been something among the lines of "Oh, this sauce doesn't look presentable, do you think they'd change it if asked to?" Which also meant she didn't address the waitress directly, ever. Also, she was looking at everything and after each examination, she judged—approaching a variety of topics from an interesting point of view. The girl had potential, but her upbringing had aimed her wrongly.

The Thai girl came in with a new set of sauces; she placed them down, smiling at us. A ring on her finger glistened in the light. She was engaged. After she left the table, it all came down.

"I hope she checked the value on that ring. I mean, it looked too big for a good diamond, and she needs to know what she's wearing. Her fiancé at least should have saved the equivalent of three paychecks to pay for an engagement ring. Of course, it depends a lot on the income."

Ok, shit just got real. "Hah, you tell me how much a ring should cost? I tell you how many decibels the door must give off when it slams right behind your ass," I informed her.

Danielle stopped eating, staring at me with disbelief. Jason was hoping for an alien to extract him from the situation, judging by his looks. Angelica had her mouth open in shock.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, the gay comment, too—trying to un-gay your kid by making him have sex with girls is as logical as trying to slap him until his eyes turn from brown to green."

"So, a guy wearing an ascot is trying to teach me something?"

"Congratulations on knowing what an ascot is," I conceded. "Now, Angelica, I was just being frank. I mean, you're one of the prettiest women I've seen..."

She raised her eyebrow. She knew something was coming, and I continued talking, for I was certain she was about to interrupt me.

"You are knowledgeable in many subjects. You know how to dress and your fashion sense is impeccable. Since you're all this, I'm sure that you've had one hell of an upbringing with opportunities denied to most... But has anyone ever told you to just keep looking pretty and simply shut up?"

Angelica let her breath out in apparent slow motion, ineffable thoughts coursing through her mind, her face registering that she didn't know how to react to this. I braced myself to receive wine, straight at my face. But it didn't happen.

"I'm going to the ladies room," she said, standing up. "I expect you to either be gone when I return, or to offer an apology and an explanation."

Angelica disappeared temporarily. Not the reaction I was expecting.

"Well, I'll be damned, man," Jason said, looking at me as if I had punched the President in the middle of his acceptance speech. "Just don't pull that with random girls from her circle."

Danielle's expression had mutated, however. From being in shock, it had turned into veiled amusement as she warned me. "Dante, Angelica is not a girl that will accept anyone telling her what to do. Just save yourself some time and go with the flow."

"She is a girl and needs to be told what is what in life."

"Twenty-five, not a girl. You'll get nowhere."

"Would you be willing to bet on that?" I said, smirking.

"Sure thing. What do you want to bet?"

My eyes twinkled and her throat constricted. She gulped. I regained my composure, hoping it went unnoticed. "Nothing, just the pleasure of admitting that I was right."

"And if you lose?"

"Dinner's on me," I offered, fully aware of the absurd pricing.

"Deal." She had barely managed to say that when Angelica returned. I stood up and pulled the chair out so she could sit. Regardless of what I thought of her, manners were manners while eating.

"I take it Danielle calmed you down."

"You take it wrongly, Angelica." And so, the sparring began. I could see the fire behind her eyes each time I said something. Angelica was definitely not used to someone standing up to her. It had to be admitted, the girl tried different approaches and elaborated her opinions in a well-constructed manner. Sadly, flawed logic can hold only so long. I didn't win every single time, but had she not taken ideas that seemed to belong to a 17th-century lady, she would've won a more few matches. Her wins were where it was a matter of opinion and she worded everything nicely, overpowering my phrases. But the overall score was evident.

Angelica never blushed. Mostly, color would drain from her face; it happened a few times when we went from politics to poverty, from Africa to body types. Not a single coarse word had been uttered, yet our antagonism was polite but obvious.

"...because God said so, why else?"

"So we're bringing God up now, huh?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Danielle waved her small hand like a referee between us. "Back down. No religion discussed here."

Jason was mortified. A few patrons were looking at Angelica and me—some disapproving, others entertained. Our meal was done, and I asked for the check; Angelica started back at me as soon as the waitress went for it.

"Where do you think you gain authority, anyway?"

"I read from scientific magazines to big books on theological philosophy. Who do you want me to quote?"

"I could quote a few sources too. What makes you think yours are better? What could you do to make me think you're right?"

I let the comment hang and simply stared at Angelica. She pretty quickly understood what I meant I could do to her, and she blanched yet again. I smirked.

We all left the restaurant and said a few quick goodbyes in the parking lot. Jason did his best to make it as painless and quick as possible. While I hadn't made Angelica submit, she hadn't done anything to aggravate the situation, so the bet came to a grey area, and we each paid our own way. Then, I had a hunch. After saying goodbye to Danielle, I shook Angelica's hand with the respect a tenacious adversary deserves. And slipped something into her hand.

Jason's car drove off first. I still waited on my motorcycle. Three minutes, exactly. I got a text from a new number.

"You. 855 Mason St. Now."

"Like hell. (I gave her my address). You have 15 minutes to be there."

In the far end of the parking lot, an expensive car started its engine. I smiled to myself.

***

I still wore my whole attire, except for the motorcycle jacket. Resting upon the couch, the movie I had selected out of my collection was Serenity. I had gone around the park, normally a twenty-minute drive, but without traffic, it became seven minutes, as expected. I already had sprayed some odor-neutralizing spray just in case. Also, I had gone to the sink and cleaned something that I expected to use.

Before the fifteen-minute mark, the door chime announced my next guest. I was about to stand up, but I thought twice about it. "Door's open."

Angelica stepped in. She looked as if she were experiencing conflicting emotions. Which I expected. This girl was always in charge; I had to make sure I didn't give her any footing for her to come to that position. My hand showed her the couch. She sat, looking at me with some contempt. "I don't know who you think you—"

"Shhh." My index finger silenced the outraged woman—her lips soft and slightly sticky with lip-gloss. "I'm watching a movie." Let's hope she doesn't slap me. And she didn't. The intensity behind her gaze was augmented, but she played along. Sort of. Right after my finger left her lips, not much changed.

"—and how dare you treat—" My finger returned to rest upon her lips.

"This is how it's going to work. You're going to get rid of your clothes." When I said that, Angelica's eyes grew bigger. "Then you will lower my zipper, pull out my cock, and suck it while I watch this movie." I had my hand ready to block the imminent reaction to that. I was trying to tame a tiger by staring it down.

"I don't know what your problem is, but I'll have you know I don't give oral sex, and I—"

"Tonight, you will."

Angelica's hands trembled, but it wasn't only rage; there was a hint of arousal. For the first time, she wasn't in control. I briefly wondered if that would be what I'd do when a woman imposed her own will over mine. There was something very clear in my mind. No name-calling, nothing that went beyond certain authority. I was already walking on thin ice.

I didn't say anything else. I simply looked at her and cocked my head slightly. She didn't look away. Angelica undid her dress, a dark golden masterpiece; however, the true awe-inspiring piece of art was beneath it. When the dress fell to the floor, she didn't attempt to cover her breasts, even though she wore no bra—only some ridiculously small thong. Angelica didn't seem cowed by her almost nudity. She was daring me to break the spell.

Ball is still in my court.

Her physique was more bountiful than I had expected, her backside was generous but perfectly proportioned, and her breasts were full, which made her waist look smaller. Everything was in its place. Her exotic features were barely lit by the images from the TV. I simply nodded.

Angelica placed her thumbs on the thong and slipped it down, stepped gracefully out of it, and showed me her whole body without shame. Her pussy glistened slightly. Even if her eyes didn't exhibit it, her body betrayed her—she was wet. Breathtakingly beautiful, she stared at me, still defiant. I turned to watch the scene where Mal negotiates with Mingo and Fanty.

I felt a weight on the couch, and then my zipper was lowered. I had cleaned my cock before she came in. A pair of hands pulled it out and, for a few seconds, I stopped breathing while she made her choice.

A tentative kiss on the tip made me sigh. I looked at her and nearly came. The woman looked stunning, her body was begging me to touch it, and she was still deciding whether to go any further. Angelica looked up. I was staring at the TV as nonchalantly as I could when her eyes fell on me. I heard her breathe in, and then, warmth enveloped my dick. I grunted. Making sure she wasn't looking at me, I devoured her body with my eyes. Her technique was far from developed, but she went at it ambitiously.

I couldn't resist. My hand touched her back slightly, then with firmness. Her skin was incredible: warm, soft, and treated with the most exclusive moisturizers. Or she was blessed with incredible genes. Angelica's teeth grazed my cock in a way that made me jump, not with pleasure. She came up for air.

I was watching TV.

Too proud to apologize for that painful episode, she went back at it. I looked at her again, my hand going lower. I found her sex and, to my lack of surprise, she was dripping wet, for all her contempt.

"Angelica, you are truly beautiful," I admitted. She was about to go up, but my other hand prevented her from doing so, making her continue. "But, girl, you have to learn how to blow guys."

Her nostrils flared, and I chuckled. My hand guided her; the other one slipped away from her lower lips, and I found the remote for the TV. I turned it off, releasing her head. She looked at me again, the fire in her eyes threatening to overcome both of us. "One last thing, gorgeous. You have to ask for it."

"Let's fuck, Dante."

I almost jumped on top of her, but I kept myself in check. I stood up and walked towards the bedroom.

"You didn't ask."

"I'm not going to beg."

"I'm not saying you have to beg," I conceded. "I just need you to learn one last lesson. It's not bad to ask for things."

She breathed in...then out. I looked back at her.

"Dante. Do you want to have me?"

I recognized the dam about to break, and I had to confess something. "My lady, with our personalities, I truly don't know if I'm going to have you or if you're going to have me."

Her eyebrows lowered slowly and lips pursed in a tight smile, the first of the night.

I had just enough time to roll a condom on before she pushed me back onto the bed. I propped myself up on my elbows. She crawled on top of me and pushed me back yet again, so I was laying down.

"Let's see what it is that Trish can't shut up about."

Holy crap, did that girl print posters, too? Everybody knows about me now, it seems.

She lowered herself onto my rod, with control behind her every movement. Once I was all the way inside of her and I enjoyed the distinct feeling of her inner architecture, she did it. It felt as if a fist had closed around my cock. I grunted. She did it again, and I cocked my head to the side, looking at her curiously. Angelica raised her eyebrow seductively and worked her inner muscles with superb control.

I withdrew my hips as much as I could so she would massage the head of my cock, dislodging myself up to where I was able to. I allowed her to work her magic on me. I even playfully placed my hands on the back of my head as if saying, "Ok, you run the show now".

She began grinding slowly, changing the pressure around my member. While she might have had no oral technique, her control over her body did more than compensate for it. As soon as I felt her relax her stance, my hands shot for her hips and I held her in place. I began to thrust deeply into her, strongly and with high speed.

"Ooooh..."

The gorgeous woman of exotic appearance gasped and her eyes flew open. Her control lost, I took her by the elbows, pulled her towards me, and rolled so I'd be on top. Her surprise grew. Then the surprise changed into an erotic moan as I began pumping tenaciously—using different angles, speeds, and intensities—trying to find the precise combination that would make her cum.

In vain, Angelica attempted to rip the mattress to shreds as her nails dug into it, her body withstanding the constant thrusting of my cock into her folds. The warmth of her interior was addicting, her moans were music to my ears and—holy shit, that feels good.




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 03



"Nnngh." I barely could hold on to her.

It was her turn to grab me and roll on top of me. She rode me wildly, moving herself up and down. I could see my rigid manhood in flashes as Angelica vehemently tried to make me cum. Because it came down to that. Who could make the other surrender first.

My hands instinctively went up for her breasts and I kneaded them, carefully at first, but with more strength as I saw that it worked for her, until we reached a sensation we both enjoyed. My thumbs played with her nipples, which I noticed were large but... I don't know. Strangely beautiful. Just like the rest of her. I took my right hand to my mouth, licked my thumb, and then brought it back to her nipple. Angelica shuddered and I gave her half a smirk, letting her know that being on top isn't being in charge.

Doing it surely but without taking too much time, my left hand slowly trailed down towards her navel, tickled her lightly, then went for my prize. Hers was probably the smallest clit I had ever played with; if I hadn't known where to look for it, I would've been utterly lost. I had to discover if the effect would be the same. My fingers did a quick alternating movement, the index and middle fingers giving it fast, feathery-light touches. Then, between my thumb and index, I made some pressure around it, pinching it very softly.

"Augh!" She almost choked. Her eyes flew open with surprise and her back rounded slightly when she shuddered. My plan backfired, as a secondary reaction occurred. Angelica's inner walls contracted around me in such a harsh way that it was almost painful—the tightest feeling I had experienced in years. I surprised myself by saying something at a louder volume than usual.

"Oh, yes!" My voice sounded throaty, almost raspy. I was about to add something, yet she started doing her inner-muscle magic, her pussy giving my hardness a full-length massage. Instead of saying anything else, I groaned in pleasure.

Angelica's body was starting to show signs of perspiration; of course that meant she looked sexier. Her curves were accentuated by the light that was strategically reflected, and our bodies slid with more ease. She looked at me hungrily, appearing to be some representation of a lust goddess from an exotic island.

The hard decision for me was whether I should keep my eyes open and watch this spectacular specimen of femininity sliding up and down on top of me, or whether I should close my eyes and try to hold on as long as I could without orgasming.

Or, option C. I extended my arm towards her, grabbed Angelica by the back of her neck, and pulled her towards me. A fierce kiss with some nibbling that made both of us growl with animal need was what I needed to flip us around again, yet my strength failed me and I could only roll us halfway. Her inner walls were starting to close around me with a more urgent need. She was too close to her orgasm. My cock felt about to burst. We both knew it was a matter of seconds before it all was over.

Instead of battling for the upper position, Angelica looked at me, nodded, and conveyed a truce. She pulled me gently but steadily, guiding me with two fingers on my chin so I would be on top, lowered her hands, and grabbed my ass. I began pumping faster into her, and she helped me, guiding my movements as much as she could—her nails digging into my flesh, although there was much more pleasure than pain.

Our bodies had been moving in perfect synchrony. However, in a particular back thrust, Angelica tried to respond with her pelvis in a similar motion, and I slid out of her. We both groaned in frustration. She stared at me as if reproaching me, but quickly found my member and guided it inside her again. Again, in tandem, we both sighed in pleasure. I had to adjust my arms' positioning so that wouldn't happen again. Once I was happy with my position, I resumed the movement.

It was so fast that our climaxes, while not imminent, had not been postponed too long. She massaged my ass as I pistoned in long movements, making sure she felt every inch of me. It felt slightly odd; normally it was me who had my hands on the girl's ass. But it worked wonderfully. And when she continued her contractions as if there had been no pause, I felt my orgasm lurch forward. I was nearing it and I wanted to ensure Angelica orgasmed as well. Randomly nibbling her upper torso, I tried to find a sensitive spot. Nothing. Her breathing told me she was getting close, but not as much as I was.

My next attempt was biting her neck, but I didn't feel anything other than her wonderful body below mine accepting my cock greedily—quite a lot of great sensations, but not what I was looking for. Then I went for her earlobe. Angelica's intake of air made a hissing sound when I licked it; then I nibbled it, ignoring the metallic taste of her earring. If it's not roughness that she needs, then... My hands, with some effort, snaked underneath her body until my elbows were propped right beside her shoulders, but the real intention was having both my hands behind the back of her neck. I tickled the back of her neck, but concentrated my efforts around her hairline. Then I pulled her hair confidently, licking her earlobe and fucking her without holding back.

She made a really loud humming sound, as if she had planned to simply mutter something, but the pack of coordinated stimuli proved to be surprising enough. This time I was ready and I tried to think of a song. Unfortunately, none came to mind and her expected clamping down around my cock had its full effect. I felt my orgasm go through me like a yanking sensation that shook my entire body. I groaned in Angelica's ear, my hands tensed, and I pulled her hair as I slammed myself furiously against her.

The first spurt of semen discharged with so many muscles tensing, I actually felt dizzy. My hands froze in place holding onto Angelica's head. My hips, however, kept on going, acting on their own. I plunged in, then pulled back. All in a speed I hadn't thought possible from me. That was what she needed, apparently. She let out a barely audible "oh," but her body stopped moving. She was frozen in place.

Angelica didn't shake or tremble, or anything like that. She locked down in position. The only movement that came from her was her pussy milking my cock with ardor. That sent my orgasm into overdrive, and I made one final thrust. I went all the way inside of her and mashed my hips against hers, trying to make enough friction on her clit to repay the favor. Her hands didn't move. She was still embracing me with devotion as I emptied myself. The electric current between us was brutal. Our orgasms hit us without mercy, and then suddenly, it was all over.

I collapsed on her unceremoniously, feeling her breathe underneath me, while still holding me.

She was the first to speak. "Holy shit..."

With my head buried in her hair, I barely needed to whisper for her to hear me. "I"—having to breathe again—"wholeheartedly concur."

My body moved slightly as I attempted to extricate myself from her, but her arms didn't move. Whereas our connection wasn't sentimental, still, there was this feeling of intimacy that can only be felt when two bodies are connected in such a personal way. She had me inside of her, and I enjoyed it for as long as reasonable. When I felt myself softening, I did have to pull back. Angelica didn't object.

After discarding the condom in the trashcan that had been moved right next to my bed due to my recent history of frequent sex, I looked at her and had to admit something. "You're intriguing."

I looked deep into her eyes. I saw a flash of something that I recognized. There was still nothing similar to love between us, yet it did mean something as I had acknowledged her in a way that she hadn't experienced before—at least after sex. Unbeknownst to me, that seemed to be an invitation for her to spill her heart out. For almost fifteen minutes, she talked on and on about herself.

Angelica was the youngest out of two children in her family. The eldest had been promising until he felt that all the absurdly vast riches their family possessed were his right to spend, and he was now in a downward spiral. Angelica had been pretty and that had been her greatest asset, in her father's eyes, which meant she had been discouraged from continuing her studies. Her father wanted only the best husband for his daughter; from his point of view that would mean a man with a lot of money, for that was the lifestyle Angelica was used to, and entitled to. To make things more difficult, that meant the reason why he had disapproved of her studying any further was that he wanted her to be the perfect trophy wife. Just like Angelica's mother had been.

"...so, with my brother in rehab yet again, Dad is looking for the man to take his place and far from me. My time is spent at the gym, shopping and going to fantastically boring parties filled with petty rivalries. It's like a bunch of Mrs. Dalloways trying to outdo each other."

I was looking at her thoughtfully, then I took her head and made it rest against my chest. She embraced me.

"Well, you'd be the worst trophy wife out there."

Angelica tensed up, and I had to continue my idea before I made things worse.

"You're too smart. You just made a Virginia Woolf reference, for the love of Whomever you'd like." I moved my arm tighter around her, comforting her. "Back at the restaurant, you used a lot of interesting debate techniques and your mind is fast. I'm sorry, but a good trophy wife requires almost no intelligence. Otherwise, she's more than a trophy."

"I know." Angelica seemed to be nearing tears. "But dad always said that men wouldn't want me. I mean, I already have a strong personality, and—and..."

"I think he's partially right," I conceded. "In higher spheres of society I have noticed that culture is well-received, but there's a lot of ideas that tend to be conservative in many cases. Yet, you can't pretend to dumb yourself down for the rest of your life. You're already smart. And many men will be intimidated by that and will not pursue you, because you won't tolerate crap with a lowered head. Add a killer body, a gorgeous face, and whatever degree you want, and it'll be pretty much overwhelming for the alpha Neanderthal with money.

"On the other hand, if you hone your intelligence as much as you can, you'll send those Neanderthals running for the hills. And while many will run away, believe me, the ones that will pursue you—more than you'd think—will be willing to crawl over bright embers for you. You'd be the complete package for those who like challenges."

Angelica hugged me tighter. I was pretty sure she had already thought about that, but hearing someone else say it was a mixture of comfort and facing the truth. Still in this era, there were many people clinging to outdated ideas. Worse, people with power—her main social circle.

"And if I may," I added, "I think you can pull it off wonderfully even against your dad's current ideas. You're still the princess in your house, aren't you? Convince your father that maybe a female CEO was never his dream, but you've got what it takes. If not, hey, would he really stop you from studying for a post-graduate degree?"

"No, not really."

"What would stop you from, say, studying for an MBA in whatever it is that is focused on your father's chain store, and then buying some actions with the money you have? And before you know it, you're in a nice office, being listened to when you make decisions regarding whatever it's called."

Angelica actually sat up. Her soft breasts swayed with the movement, and I felt the stirring of a possible second erection. She was looking at me with awe.

"Dante...you are a genius."

"Coming from you, I'll take that as a huge compliment. Now, I don't know a lot about stock markets and stuff, but I guessed that—"

"You're right, I could do it! I mean I..." Angelica moved her head, as if in an inner dialogue for a few seconds. "Dante, I—wow. I swear I'm going to invent a new sex position just to thank you," she said mischievously. Still, I could see the gears in her head going into overdrive.

"That was probably the longest string of words I've said this year. Make the most out of it," I counseled her. Then, she bent over and kissed my forehead.

It was one of those moments when you know you've made a connection that is difficult to explain. There was no romantic link between us, but the circumstances had aligned us, somehow, for something rare. It was laden with meaning. It reminded me of the kiss between Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson in Lost In Translation—the moment two souls touched. It meant a lot, and yet, it didn't mean anything else. I knew for sure that she hadn't had this feeling of closeness in a long time.

"Next time we have sex, I expect you to show me what 'The Dante' is all about," I deadpanned. She smiled and looked for her clothes.

***

Days went by uneventfully, since I barely had any time for anything because Jim, my boss, had decided that things worked just like in the movies. The company was about to revamp a product's presentation. He had asked for an entire campaign from one day to the next. Typical of those who don't work in marketing, he thought it was a matter of a few scenes of me being frustrated, then suddenly, the muse of marketing inspiration would make love to me and I would come up with everything in an all-nighter of sketching. I didn't laugh, but I did tell him it was impossible, that since the marketing department wasn't huge, we could come up with marketing pitches; then we'd need some actual market investigation, possibly a focus group, to see how our target audience would react. The whole marketing nine yards. Still, I had a lot of work to do. And I barely had any time to work out, but I managed.

Until Saturday morning. Danielle—for only she used the doorbell—was outside my door. I had just showered, but not wanting her to find me in my underwear yet again, I managed to slip into some flimsy pants and a small t-shirt. I tried to bat the hair away from my face, but it kept falling back to touch my nose. I needed to do something about it. Maybe I was focusing on my hair to distract myself from trying to get into the mindset of seeing her and not reacting again. But it was beyond my capabilities, not reacting to Danielle.

Danielle was wearing some kind of small coat that framed her glorious body and a tight shirt with a strange variation of a scarf. Her pants did nothing to hide her incredible curves, and she had a curious belt. I wouldn't have thought about that combination, but she made it look good. Then again, she could've made a discarded sack of potatoes look good. I did what I could to focus on not eyeing her lasciviously.

"Hey! Dante, you could rock the long-hair look." She kind of interrupted herself before going to the main idea she had in mind. She showed me a paper. "Do you know what this is?"

"Uh... a paper."

"Impressive. I mean, read the name!"

"Angelica Faris?"

"Angelica just applied for an MBA."

"That's nice."

"Apparently, you had something to do with it." Danielle was very serious. "Thank you."

She hugged me, and she did it with too much energy. With our difference in heights, it meant that her buckle thoroughly pressed itself against my balls. For once, her clumsiness wasn't adorable. I doubled over and my weight pressed against her; she almost fell.

I simply groaned.

"Ohmigod! I am SO sorry!"

There were no words. No witty comeback. Just another groan. I lifted a hand, telling her that I was fine, and limped towards the couch. After dropping on it, I retracted my legs against me, but the pain was still there. Danielle was uttering apologies—myriads of them. My "it's ok" was more whispered than said.

"Ok, lean back against this," she said, pointing towards the armrest. I did so, wincing. She began massaging my shoulders. She evidently didn't have any kind of training, but my sore muscles and battered balls made her attempt feel great. What I wasn't expecting was background conversation.

"Jason and I came back and it was all great, right after dinner with you. Even with the Angelica/Dante showdown. He even brought flowers the next day," she said, yet her tone wasn't happy. "But then, he went out with his friends again. And that's the issue. Every time he goes out with them, he comes back with this attitude I hate."

"And I know them, because they're supposed to be my friends too. Angelica's too, also." Danielle kept massaging me, her tiny hands working absently. I laid back and felt very comfortable. My head was resting against her breasts, and she didn't move back. I didn't adjust my position after that; I merely tried not to get aroused. She sighed, then continued. "I know what they're saying behind my back. That he could do better because he has money. They want him to get a disposable skinny bitch, just like most of them have."

I was surprised by her words. The seething hate when she said "skinny bitch" was not her usual demeanor. Apparently, her circle of friends was different than I expected. And until she mentioned it, I hadn't registered that Jason did appear to be loaded. The car he drove made you think the 'sorry about your penis' phrase. She worked a bit harder on my shoulders, and I grunted lightly, her scent wrapping around me as she poured her thoughts out.

"And it's always like that. I work to make our relationship run smoothly. He does his part. It all goes well...then he sees his friends, and we're back to square one. He sees me with love, then later, he sees me like I'm not pretty enough. Or like I'm fat. I mean, I'm eating something, and he looks at me like I'm pigging out. And I know the look. I've known him long enough."

That made me angry. And I knew the idea behind all that. Men are taught from the start that one deserves a gorgeous woman. All the books, movies, stories, the fairy tales—they all might revolve around an ugly man, maybe even handsome guys. Perhaps he's out of shape or he's the epitome of bodily health. Regardless of what the situation is, if he does well, the outcome is always the same. He is rewarded with an attractive woman. The princess is always gorgeous. The fair maiden is always breathtaking. The heroine looks like an underwear model. And with the kind of bodies that most magazines, advertisements, and porno present—and the overall perception of what attractive is—it's no wonder many women have eating disorders when they don't fit into the "appropriate woman" category. In my case, I always hated being told what to do. So being told who to want was definitely out of the question. So Danielle wasn't size 3. Big deal. Unlike Trish or Angelica who were thin by nature—and it showed how their workouts improved their figure—Danielle didn't starve herself to try to achieve the impossible. She was stunning in her own way. That her body reminded me of a Miss Mosh with a larger bra cup was enough to make me hard every time I saw her.

"They're asking him to go out with them more often. I know what that's for. They want him to meet someone else. At least for 'fun'. And I do know that women throw themselves at him because it's obvious that he has money, but isn't a relationship supposed to be more than that?" Danielle's posture felt different. I looked up at her, and she was sagging down, barely aware of her hands having stopped. I kept on staring at her.

"I want him to look at me like a woman, you know? Not like 'ah, there you are, again', but—I don't know." Her hands began lowering themselves on my torso as she kept on talking. "I want to be looked at with awe, with desire, because I've been looked at with those before, and I..."

As she had said those words, her hands kept on trailing down, caressing my chest, then moving slowly, trailing the ridges of my abdomen. When she felt them, the pressure from her hands increased, as if she wanted to feel my body. I knew I wanted to feel hers, but I was frozen, not sure how to react. It was very tempting to try to—she looked down at me. Her voice had trailed off because she saw the look in my eyes. I was doing the stare that she had been describing, and not on purpose, but because I felt it. I was looking up at her with awe, with possessiveness, with desire. The air between us seemed to vibrate with the untold je ne sais quoi between us. Her hands were resting on my navel and her face was inches from mine.




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 03



We looked into each other's eyes for an untold amount of time. Her lips parted slightly and she began moving forward. Her eyes darted higher and she noticed how my body reacted to her. My erection was impossible to hide. Danielle suddenly gasped before I could lean forward, and separated herself from me. "Anyway I—well, thanks for listening. I'm sorry I blabbered. I'm sorry I hit you. I—see you later, Dante!"

Danielle made a hasty retreat, and as usual, I was hard and confused when the door closed.

I paced around the small living room. What can I do? I can't sabotage her relationship. But I want her. Yet, I don't want her to come to me simply because she feels the need to have certain sentimental requirements fulfilled. Does she want me? Or does she simply like that I crave her? Should I let— The door rudely interrupted my thoughts. Someone was knocking, therefore, not Danielle.

I opened the door. I would later thank Pan for all the self-defense tips and training because I automatically blocked the incoming aggression. I grabbed the wrist of the attacker and almost began the counterattack sequence until I noticed that it wasn't a closed fist that had come at me; it was an open hand attempting to slap me. Guided by a gorgeous, furious, red-haired teenager.

"I mean...Angelica? Really? How could y'do that?!"



An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 04



Thanks to LadyVer for editing and getting this story to make sense.



"I mean...Angelica? Really? How could y'do that!" Trish was furious. She continued trying to slap me as I held her wrist in my hand. I dragged her into my apartment and closed the door behind me. The whole building was not welcome to our conversation.

"Now, where the hell is this coming from?" I had to know.

"Y'fucked Angelica!"

"Yes. Your point being?"

"I just leave for a few days and y'go and fuck one of my friends!"

"Well, I thought not only you could have fun, since you probably were banging a guy back in New York"—I grabbed her other wrist when she tried to slap me again with her free hand—"What the fuck, Trish!"

"What do y'think I am?"

Oh, shit. It dawned on me. It took me a while because I didn't think like an average guy. For me, having sex with a woman didn't always mean that I expected her to be exclusive with me, simply because love was love, sex was sex. On the other hand, there was an area where I did think like an average guy. Trish and I had been sleeping with each other, frequently, and since nothing had been said, I had assumed nothing was happening. Fuck.

In retrospect, it was obvious. She had even mentioned going on the pill for me so we could have bareback sex. This realization took a second, which must have shown on my face.

"Are y'gonna pretend y'just realized right now y'cheated on me, y'bast—"

"Now you listen to me," I growled. When angered, I do not raise my voice. I don't do drama. I keep my intonation low and I enunciate every single word, carefully. The tone made her shrink back. "I do not cheat. Look, if I acted like an idiot by not saying anything—assuming instead of talking it out—I will apologize for it, but I will not be called a cheater just because things were not clear between us."

From being afraid of me, Trish went all the way to confused. She noticed she had touched a complicated subject with me. There was still anger in her eyes, for sure, but now there were more things there.

"Shit, Dante. I don't—I can't deal with this right now," Trish said. As I felt her body relax somewhat, I let her wrists go. She turned around without even looking at me again and exited the apartment with a curt, "Don't call me," before shutting the door behind her.

And not even noon, what a day this is gonna be. I looked at my pull-up bars and found new energy and frustration to vent.

Almost an hour later my calves were trembling after I had lost count of the lunge jumps I had done. My arms were sore, my back felt slightly uncomfortable, and my chest was even twitching. My phone chimed and I checked the message.

ANGELICA Holy shit drama. Trish. U free 2day? Boring 4mal dinner. Need conversation not 2 fall asleep. Need 2 talk 2 u.

I dialed her number.

"Hey, Dante."

"Angelica."

"I'm kinda busy right now, but can you manage to find some time today? There's one of those Mrs. Dalloway events today. I can't be bothered to find a date, and we need to talk. Trish just talked to me. Or should I say, yelled."

"I'm glad to be your 'can't be bothered to,' you know."

"You know what I mean."

"Strangely, I do."

We ended up agreeing to meet in my apartment so we could go from there to the dinner at four, since it started as a cocktail party. I took a bath, selected some casual clothes, and then went over to the hair salon. My only guidance to the stylist was, "I'm growing it out. Make it look good."

Then Ralph called me. He needed to copy some contacts from my phone since he had just bought a new one. I told him to get there quickly because I had plans. Just as I said that there was a knock on the door. I opened it to Ralph wearing his typical polo shirt, white jeans, and those moccasins you rarely see except on yacht-club people in movies.

"Dante, bro!"

Ralph had become a part of the "boy band" unexpectedly. He was a former star of the high school football team. In junior year, he thought Gabriel was just like his older brother so he befriended us. The guy was an absolute asshole to the whole world except to his friends. Suddenly Gabriel, Pan, Mike, and I had been in that select group. Ralph thought like a wolf; the world for him worked in packs—whoever was not part of his pack was either an enemy or a meal. He might not have been very bright, but he was successful and had proven himself to be fiercely loyal. It confused the hell out of me, although from the beginning, the jock had been an unusual friend in my clique. I had grown to have affection for the guy.

"Ralph, are you trying to develop a new pair of biceps? What the hell is going on with those arms?"

"Bro, you flex one of these, bam! Panties come off," he said with his trademark shit-eating grin. And I didn't doubt he could charm underwear off that way. "Anyway, can I copy the contacts from your phone?"

"Sure, I left it on the table." I glanced towards the aforementioned piece of furniture.

"Thanks." He nodded and walked in, taking my smartphone. "So, banging the teen tonight?"

"Uh...not really. We're not doing anything anymore. I'm going out with someone else."

"The jogging girl?"

"Not really."

"Well, I'll be damned. Pan was right! You have learned well, Jedi."

"I think you mean padawan."

"Whatever, bro. So, where did this girl come from?" Ralph kept on making small talk while he copied contacts to his fancy new cell phone. He was floored when he found out that Angelica was not only Trish's friend but also Danielle's. "So you're porking the whole bunch of girls? When is the chunky one's turn?"

"Porking. How elegant of you. And I'm not having sex with Danielle—who, by the way, isn't 'chunky,'" I stated, and then I remembered. "Oh, right, you thought that Scarlett Johansson was fat in the Avengers just because she didn't look like she starved herself."

"She did look fat. She ran like a fat girl when the green guy started messing the airship up."

I gave up on that one. "Anyway. Ralph. I'm expecting company and I gotta get into a suit, so..."

"I'm done," he said as he stood up and went to the door. "I owe you one. And I gotta run, too. We just started this course—Pan, Maria, and me—and we got to meet this Susan girl...we hit it off nicely. Pan seems pretty serious about this one, huh? I mean, Pan is always serious. But this girl, Maria. Yeah. Whatever. About Susan, I'm going to tease the shit out of her until she begs for it," he said, not gracefully grabbing his crotch. In response, I rolled my eyes. He snorted and kept going. "I have some videos to record. Keep in touch and say hi to Galahad when you call him."

Some things never change. After he left, I donned the suit. No tie. I selected a necklace as an accessory. Just in time to hear the doorbell.

"Sounds like you've had a busy day, so far. How dapper," Danielle said in a British accent, appreciatively looking at me. "Wait, are you going to the cocktail party thing?"

"I guess."

She switched back to her original way of speaking. "This is so soap opera. Trish is totally miffed and Angelica invites you over to the event."

"Is Trish going? I'll have to cancel. It's not that I don't want to see her, but my policies include trying to stay drama-free."

"And leave Angelica hanging?"

"She should've thought about it."

"Tell you what. Lemme talk to Trish. She wanted to skip it. I'll talk about this and say that you offered to go, to give her a reason not to go. We all win. I'll do my best to smooth things between Angelica and Trish too."

"That is very generous of you"—then I saw the glint in her eye—"wait, what do I have to do in return?"

The sparkle in her eye intensified and I saw a hint of something else, but it quickly evaporated. "I get five questions. You answer truthfully. I can ask you anytime."

"I can choose not to answer if there's someone else in the room?"

"You get to postpone it."

"If you ask something I don't know the answer to, 'I don't know' is a valid answer and you lose the question."

"Fair enough. The answer needs to make sense. If you have to explain something with lots of background, you'll do so."

"Deal."

***

The knock on the door announced my date. I opened the door, and for effect, I let my jaw drop. Angelica looked like a villain from a Bond movie: sophisticated, like few girls. The cocktail dress pulled against her torso, and then became loose. One of her flawless knees showed. Her chocolate-milk skin contrasted well with the ivory dress that had a straight cut in the chest area; her breasts proclaimed their shape to the world. She had silver accessories, high heels that showed off her toned legs, and clear earrings. Her haughty expression, however, was what gave her the villain touch—she broadcasted a femme fatale impression without even trying.

"Mademoiselle." I offered her my arm.

"Parlez-vous français?"

"Seulement un peu. J'essaie—but I suck...I tried learning. Now, I only have to apply some lotion and I'll be done. How much time do we have left?"

"Like an hour."

"We can get there in half an hour. I'm going to fuck you."

"What! No."

"Yes."

"No, Dante," Angelica said, her authoritative tone final. "This makeup, I can't ruin it by sweating, and I can't take everything off right now. And if we do it with clothes, it's going to be all smelly and it will not look ironed."

"Ok. Ok. You've made your case."

"Thank you."

"I am, however, going down on you."

"Dante—"

"I don't care."

"God, I can't believe I'm doing this." Angelica seemed to still be thrilled by not being in charge, even when she put her foot down. She looked for a good place to do it since she couldn't lay down and wrinkle the dress.

"Sit on the couch's armrest, hike up the dress, and enjoy it," I ordered with a smirk.

The young woman obeyed. She walked over to the couch and when she carefully exposed her body—making sure the fabric didn't suffer the consequences—I stared, curiously.

"You're...not wearing underwear," I said, stating the obvious.

"Well, I wanted to surprise someone when he got lucky tonight." Angelica said this without a hint of shame at being so exposed in front of me.

"Consider me surprised," I told her as I got rid of the suit and unbuttoned the upper section of my shirt. Then kneeling in front of her, I placed random kisses on her knees and headed slowly towards her midsection. Then she placed a hand on my head.

"Dante. Before you do anything, you need to know I'm not looking for a boyfriend. So don't get wrong ideas."

Well, this is the kind of talk I should've had with Trish. "I understand. And it's the same on my side. I'm not expecting anything from you either."

"Good. I mean, no offense, but you're not my type."

"I partially disagree," I mumbled, nibbling on her inner thighs, smelling her arousal. "I seem to be your type once I'm between your legs."

She looked at me with speechless outrage, as she had done at the restaurant days earlier.

"I mean, at first you rejected me, but once you had it inside, you acted as if you wanted to—hmph." Her hands pulled me towards her, forcing me to kiss her inner thighs again. Even like this she wanted to be in control. I obliged and kissed her sensitive skin until I was almost touching her lower lips. Then I had to let her know that she wasn't directing this that easily. "Honestly, Angelica, when was the last time you came like that?" Instead of avoiding her and teasing her after I asked that, I gave her a sloppy lick from the lowest part of her pussy all the way up to her clit.

"How dare you ask me—aaaugh, yes..."

The bossy woman tasted heavenly. I cursed myself for not going down on her constantly. I began to messily make out with her sex, first taking both her ass cheeks in my hands and diving in, and then licking her lower lips thoroughly. In response she grabbed my hair and pulled me tighter against her while moaning wantonly for me.

As before, we were battling for control. Angelica tried to guide my head to different spots; I resisted as much as I could. She pulled harder. A shiver ran down my spine when I tried to slap her clit with my tongue. I felt the sensation shoot straight from my scalp toward my groin.

"Don't pull so hard," I said, before resuming my tongue-lashing.

"Why, are you—ah—afraid of a little roughness?"

"Like hell. I like it too much when you pull harder," I warned her. I hardened my tongue to penetrate her folds and then wriggled it around licking upward. "You keep that up, I'm going to fuck you for hours on end and we won't go to see the Dalloways."

I looked up. Angelica appeared to be debating whether to have wilder sex with me or to fulfill her social requirements. She was dressed up already so her grip on my hair receded. Slightly. Enough for me, however, to understand the meaning. I happily kissed different, random areas of her mound before greedily licking her slit again. I was tempted to leisurely lick, kiss, and nibble on her nether region for as long as I could, but we had a meeting to attend. I didn't even need licking my fingers. I simply wriggled them inside of her. Angelica's inner thighs pressed themselves against my ears with the strength of a woman who frequently works out. But the smoothness of her skin and the way she wanted more was worth my discomfort in that position.

It was extremely complicated to maneuver in the tangle of limbs, so my attempts to find her G-spot were severely hindered, and yet my fingers were doing a good job—judging by Angelica's moans. The only downside for me of going down is that the taste drives me crazy; the body recognizes sex and demands more. Already, my cock felt painfully hard and was asking for compensation. My fingers moved a bit more inside of her as my other hand harshly squeezed her ass. My assault on her pussy lips was not backing down.

The exotic beauty squealed with delight. Angelica moved her hips toward me, the sinuous movement mimicking the one she used when she rode me. My fingers felt the maddening massage that her inner walls had given my cock before and I growled into her lips when the memory assaulted me. I began eating her out in a lust-fueled frenzy. Out of the blue I spanked her—then dug my fingers into her ass again—behaving more like an animal than a male needing his orgasm.

Angelica's nails trailed a path from my upper back to my scalp and judging by the pressure around my fingers, I was hitting the right spots. She messed up my hair when my tongue changed strategies of attack. Knowing that she was reaching her climax, I devoured her pussy with urgency, kissed her lower lips passionately, and sucked slightly around her clit. There was no time to lose; we needed her to cum as quickly as possible so her appearance wouldn't be marred by her orgasm.

I dug around my mental book of oral sex strategies and hurriedly tried them all—tongue movements, sighing, moaning, my fingers exploring the skin inside of her—the whole nine yards in a condensed edition until I found the one that worked for Angelica. I made my tongue flat to cover a larger area and then pressed it against her clit shaking my tongue against her sensitive skin as my index finger curled itself inside of her and massaged a hard-to-reach area.

She made a noise that was difficult to classify and I knew I had hit the jackpot. I repeated the combination over and over with higher intensity each time and felt her contracting more and more around my fingers. Her hips started motoring away beyond her control. Angelica urged me on—not that she needed to—as her orgasm rushed towards her. Trembling uncontrollably, she wildly bucked her hips against my face while I held on to keep my mouth on her pussy. She pressed me towards her hot sex but I wasn't ready. I held on, trying not to run out of breath while she came, and right after she came, the young woman went all soft around me and breathed heavily. I looked up at her, evaluating the damages. She wasn't a mess, fortunately.

"We're done, get ready," I ordered her when I stood up. Angelica seductively licked my lips before giving me a small kiss on the lips—tasting herself—and complied.

"Lip gloss. I'm not going to ruin the makeup artist's work, but"—her hand snaked down; she lowered my zipper, expertly pulled my cock out, and breathed on it slowly without touching it, the hot air caressing the crown—"I promise I'll compensate for it later tonight," she added with a wink.

"I thought you didn't do oral sex," I told her, arching an eyebrow, teasing.

"Well, I can always go back to my previous ways if you don't like it," Angelica retorted in a similar tone. While sex doesn't necessarily get you to love the other person, it definitely oils the dynamic in a different way. I liked it.

"So you're sucking me off tonight, then."

***

A minute later we were knocking on Danielle's door. Her dress was red and not as daring in design as Angelica's, but she looked spectacular. For accents, she had used some gold and a shawl that went with everything. When Angelica spoke, Danielle and I realized we had been staring at each other for a few seconds.

"Danielle," my date said seductively, "could I borrow some perfume? I forgot to wear any."

"Yup! Come on, I'll show you!" Danielle definitely suspected or knew what had happened; after all, it had taken place in my living room, but she graciously didn't acknowledge it.

The two differently tempting women strode to Danielle's room but were stopped by a suddenly opening door. Angelica jumped back, giving out a yelp.

"Danielle, you're out of clean towels—oh," Jason said, coming out of the bathroom and stopping. What he said and how he said it gave me a few new insights into him, and his relationship with Danielle.

One, he called out to Danielle in the tone one uses for a long-time friend when the relationship is crumbling and both friends are politely tolerating each other's presence. This tone infuriated me. To hear it used for Danielle was unreasonable. I didn't expect Jason to address her as a deity, but some warmth would've been expected.

Two, Jason had the slowest reflexes I've ever seen. Angelica had jumped back when the door opened, and he had stepped out and said his piece before noticing other people in the apartment.

Three, while Jason was evidently out of shape, the surprise was that I could think of a few states that probably required a license to operate what dangled between his legs. Hey, gotta check out the competition, and it did seem like it would come down to skill in my case.

"What the—" Jason shut the door.

"What's next, the lights go out in the party and we get to meet a long-lost brother, too? Life is starting to feel like a sitcom," I grumbled.

"Who would've thought?" Angelica said, winking at Danielle.

"Anyway, so—towel, perfume." Danielle walked with Angelica in tow. She went to a closet, pulled out a towel, handed it to Jason after carefully opening the bathroom door, and then headed for her own room. She raised her voice so I could listen. "Don't tempt Murphy. We might get caught in a blizzard or something!"

"Well, Murphy can kiss my marketable ass," I said, tempting the fates.

"Angelica's last name is Faris, not Murphy," Danielle quipped.

"Hey!"

"I do not kiss and tell, but I can tell what didn't happen in the kiss. Angelica doesn't do that," I informed my neighbor, adding a cheeky, "yet."

"Dante." Angelica's tone was an obvious warning to withdraw sex from the conversation.

I stared back at her, convinced that I could make her crave it enough. She looked back at me accepting the challenge.

"My, aren't you guys intense," Danielle said, interrupting our stare-down, and then glanced at the clock obviously implying we'd be late.




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 04



"Right, we'll be seeing you there," I said, heading towards the door.

***

Angelica and I had to park a few blocks away. The valet parking service wasn't effective and the long line was more than I was willing to wait for. I was driving Angelica's car so I dropped her off right at the entrance, and then caught up with her. Once we were inside, I could see the kind of event that it was: something entirely new for me. Groups of people—a few having a good time—most pretending to. The decoration was simple but expensive. The food was served in trays that had ridiculously small portions of over thought combinations of exotic ingredients, and everyone feigned knowing what they were eating. Of course, all the guests were eating as if the most common tapa-looking thing (Chinese green melon, wrapped in walnut-fed-black-hog-south-Italian prosciutto, served over imported feta and an all-organic rye cookie with sweet basil, or something very similar) was an everyday obsession. I was impressed by the food, unimpressed by the people. The whole place reeked of fake attitudes, fake conversations, and fake smiles. And fake breasts too. No wonder Angelica had described it all as Mrs. Dalloway.

I was holding Angelica's arm when Danielle and Jason joined us. We started weaving our way around the groups, dropping in and out of conversations, and saying hello to dozens of small social clusters. I noticed how many introduced others with the stressed tone on the last name, just to make sure I knew who they were and why I should know who they were... One or two were introduced without any last name even though I knew who they were. Sometimes.

My mind was soon numb from conversations about who knew who, who had bought what, and who had visited which country. Unfortunately, topics were about what they had, not who they were; what they'd seen, not what they thought about it. Being inexpressive helped me not to show the epic boredom I was feeling. Once we stumbled upon a group heatedly debating raising prices on products and making them out-of-reach for individuals with smaller incomes, or lowering the prices and outsourcing the brand, leading to economic shifts. They actually used arguments. Thankfully Angelica had more people to greet.

Jason said enthusiastic helloes to a group of men eyeing Angelica and Danielle. When you're in a single-sex group and you tell a daring joke, you hear two kinds of laughs: the ones that see the joke as only a joke and the ones that see the joke as way to degrade others. This group struck me as the second kind. They looked down upon our dates as if women were actually second-class humans.

At last we navigated through a few groups populated by older people. Surprisingly I saw a few heartfelt hugs being exchanged with the trio. It was nice to see a few individuals not pretending and showing that they were, well, human. I, being the outsider, was greeted with a more distant politeness, which I didn't mind. In the end Angelica, Danielle, and I were sitting at a small table deciding how we'd separate to tend to ourselves when we were interrupted.

You can always sense when an alpha has arrived. A small team of elegantly dressed young women came over with deriding smirks that put Angelica's to shame. With one exception, they had perfect bodies, and a few of them had too-white teeth. Angelica's arm tensed up slightly in mine and I readied my knight-in-shining-armor mode. The tone used by the alpha was dripping venom. She could have easily said "fuck you" and her opinion would have been just as obvious.

"Danielle, Jason, it's nice to see you." I didn't believe her and the cadence of her voice worsened with an "Angelica, it's been a while."

"It has, Sarah," my date said efficiently, but not warmly. I could see the smiles all around—Sarah's retinue just waiting for their entertainment. I braced myself for some subtle but fast-paced verbal sparring. Sarah had excellent taste in clothing, it had to be said; it was clear that she needed to publicize that her clothes were as expensive as her jewelry and shoes. She wasn't attractive like my companions, nor as blessed regarding her physique, so the danger had its origins somewhere else.

"You haven't introduced your friend to us." The way Sarah said 'friend,' she might as well have said 'fucktoy.' "Do you even know his name? Or are you just getting acquainted publicly for the first time instead of privately?" A few of her friends were smirking. That was disappointingly unsubtle. My dates are not to be insulted. I saw her first weakness. Sarah wasn't by any means fat but compared to the rest of her followers, I might use a hint to make it hurt.

"Dante, this is Sarah...Sarah, Dante," Angelica said, swallowing her pride and ignoring the comment.

"A pleasure, Dante."

"The pleasure is all mine," I lied, as shamelessly as she had.

"I'll try to remember your name, but please, don't be offended if I don't. Angelica has a tendency to too often change dates, even in a single party." Sarah was not holding back.

"Kore wa iranai"—This is unnecessary, Danielle whispered from behind me so only I could hear her and understand her Japanese. But fuck that. I believed that sometimes I had to swoop down low so the lady wouldn't have to because it wasn't exactly chivalrous to attack a woman, and Sarah's target was unacceptable. On the other hand, I had already confronted someone who wasn't used to it and the results had been good. I took the risk.

"While that reputation might be an exaggeration, I am sure, I also believe it might be hard for her to settle for a lesser man when Angelica has more than one actually willing to be with her."

A few sharp intakes of breath told me that I had just stepped into deep shit. I didn't look away, but from the corner of my eye I could see Jason moving his right hand across his throat, telling me to kill the conversation and move on. Apparently I had a talent for insulting people unused to being insulted and this could do some damage. Unlike Angelica—who had remained polite when I challenged her—Sarah didn't do the same. Her dangerous tone was curiously similar to mine, low; but in her case, not so controlled.

"What the fuck was that supposed to mean?"

I saw Jason pleading with his eyes to my right. Danielle pushed her finger against my back, which aroused me more than stopped me. I inhaled, rubbed the bridge of my nose about to explain— Angelica pulled me while walking away.

"Anyway, Sarah, nice to see you—"

Sarah stepped right in front of us. "No, no, no. I want to know what the fuck that was." Her audience couldn't see her as weak. The alpha bitch had something to prove.

"I certainly understand the desire to be rid of misunderstandings, Sarah—" I began, my apologetic tone trying to appease the woman.

"Trying to get the foot out of your mouth, now?" she said, leering.

Well, if I was going to go down, I might as well be shot down in a blaze of glory. My companions perceived the change of expression, from parrying to attacking, and I saw all of them in slow motion trying to stop me. "Since it appears that you can't figure it out on your own, what I meant was that of the men that have bedded Angelica—and I firmly believe that it's a lesser number than what you imply—she has been able to pick who gets to do it and none of them have thought, 'hey, at least I'm not jacking off.' Claims that, sadly, I'm sure you cannot make."

The fireworks start now. Unlike Angelica where the silence had been awkward, this one was deadly.

"You piece of shit, do you have any idea who I am?" Honestly? Are we coming down to this?

"Should I know who you are? Or who your daddy is?"

"That's it. I'm finding out who the fuck you are. I will fucking destroy you."

If I already dug my grave, I might just as well continue. "Will you do it? Or will one of daddy's employees do all the dirty work and just let you know when it's done? I will be surprised if your attention span is that long." Bang.

Sarah's neck veins were about to burst. I had to hand it to her though since she did didn't slap me. She slowly turned around, making a show of her ominous departure. Of course, I was well warmed up, so I couldn't allow Sarah the last word.

"Please make a beeline for your dad and avoid the snacks in between." I sealed my coffin.

Three seconds later Jason whooped.

Angelica began with a "That was the most stupid—"

"Stupidly chivalrous—" Danielle amended, still eyeing me warily.

"I can't believe you talked back and actually dissed Sarah!" Jason was...giddy of all things. "Holy shit, this is going to be huge! Ha! Dante, you deserve this. Take it as a token of the world's appreciation." He handed me a random, unopened wine bottle from a nearby table. I took it, going along with whatever what was happening.

"Anyway, since I see this evening was a huge success, I think it's best for me if I show myself the exit." I didn't want the snowball to become an avalanche. I tried to dislodge my arm from Angelica's, but she didn't budge. I then noticed her eyes were turning pinkish.

"There is no way you're going back alone after that," Angelica firmly said.

"I think it's best if we all left. This is going to spread like a wildfire," Danielle added.

"Are you joking? This thing was unheard of!" Jason had a very interesting view on all of this. At least someone was entertained, besides me, of course. I knew when the adrenaline lowered I would be shitting urchins. "I mean, the guys have to hear it, and man, they should've seen the look on Sarah's face when you called her— Ha-ha!"

Well, fuck. Sarah doesn't have a last name, which means everyone knows her last name. And nobody has done anything like that to her. My, my, Dante, what have we gotten ourselves into?

"I think I'm going back," Danielle tried again.

"But, baby, the whole party is about to get real now—"

"Don't worry, I'm sure Dante and Angelica won't mind giving me a ride back, right?"

"Of course, Danielle." The way Angelica said it made me think that I had made them accomplices in something and now their friendship was stronger. Which meant that the situation I had unleashed kept getting better and better for me. Yes, that was sarcasm.

"Aw, you're gonna miss it! Well, text me when you're home!" No kiss goodbye, nothing. Jason simply walked away, eager to see the whole thing unfurl.

On our way back, Angelica smiled and then confided in a low tone, "Nobody has ever done that for me."

"I'm sure it was because you hadn't let them," I said, studying her and patting her hand that was wrapped around me. She appeared to be touched, yet I didn't find any glazing over her eyes like Trish had when she looked at me, which was a good thing. I didn't need more confusion. Also, I didn't like how the place where I parked the car looked seedier than just a few hours ago. Danielle pressed herself against me, just like Angelica—they both seemed to feel something was wrong.

A few shadows emerged from our right. "Ay ay ay, mira nomás..."

I quickly analyzed the accent. Mexican, maybe central zone of the country, low class. I knew how to talk like that. I just needed to find the right slang. I scanned my brain for that.

"Este cueco tan acompañado." Another voice. That one seemed from further south, probably Panamá. The one approaching us as the leader was the one with the Mexican accent, so I did what I could.

"No, aguanta, broder, haznos el paro." I did my best; it had been a while since I attempted anything like that. At least that gave them pause. They were startled enough for me to continue. "Venimos buscando jale y nos gastamos todo en esta ropa y pinches joyas falsas pa'que nos vean bonitos y nos den chamba. Acabamos de llegar."

"No mames, paisano?" The guy wasn't too convinced of what to do now. I couldn't look at the ladies; I was focused on not losing the thread of thought and accent. Then I remembered the blessed bottle. "Te lo juro, ca'on, es más, pa'que veas, hasta nos clavamos el chupe." I showed the bottle I had, still unopened. I would thank Jason later.

The men started to laugh, and fortunately for us, it wasn't a malicious laugh. I saw my opening and sealed the deal. "Ojalá salga bien, pero pa'que veas que no soy mamón ni nada, se las compartimos. Hay que echarnos la mano entre hermanos."

I handed him the bottle and he whistled, seeing how fancy it was. He appreciatively looked at us and said, "No, pos vas a pura cosa nice."

"Eso espero, si no, pues de lo que caiga." Miracle of miracles, he extended his hand and I shook it. I added, "Dante. Si va bien con lo del trabajo, lo que necesites, ya sabes, broder."

"Francisco. Ya estás, Dante."

"Ojalá no le haya pasado nada al carro, una tía lo rentó para apantallar y no quiero que nos cobren la chingadera como nueva."

"Ah, es suyo ese? No, nosotros no le hacemos a lo de los carros."

"Chingón, pues. Buenas!"

"Buenas."

I walked and my two girls gave tiny steps along with me. We got in the nice car and drove away, and I waved at the Latin trio as we passed them. The adrenalin was racing in my veins. Whoever has had a close call will understand how you feel terribly alive at those times.

"I think my ovaries just exploded." Angelica used such a weird phrase that I could only snort. "Dante, you and I have a lot to do tonight."

"What the hell was that?" Danielle's turn.

"Holy fuck, that was close," I admitted. "That was called Spanish. It's a language."

"I know it was Spanish. I took some in high school," Angelica countered. "But that..."

Danielle held her finger up, letting me know she was using her first question.

"Is Spanish your first language?"

That certainly got Angelica's attention. I guessed she would question her friend if I didn't answer right away, so... "Tsk, tsk, Danielle. You could've asked what country I was born in, you know. Spanish is spoken in at least twenty countries. You also could've gotten two pieces of information out of one question," I playfully scolded her. "But it is."

"Not really. I'm pretty sure you're from South America, the accent—"

"Don't be so sure. Mira, tía, que los acentos." I started with a perfectly simulated sibilant accent from southern Spain, then switched to a Puerto Rican one, mixing l's and r's. "No son una jodienda para imitar." Then I went over to a saucy Venezuelan one. "Es saber qué vainas usar en cada frase, mamita."

I said it all in a single sentence, seamlessly weaving the accents, making it as misleading as possible.

"Damn," Danielle conceded.

"I know slang from quite a few places and the cadence and tone of a few countries. So, first question, check."

***

We hugged Danielle outside her apartment. The hug between her and me was different in a way I really couldn't identify. I did notice, however, that her fingertips trailed my arms as we separated from each other. From behind, a pair of arms wrapped around my torso. My attractive neighbor closed the door but not before looking at us with what I thought was jealousy. But maybe I was too horny. And Angelica chose that moment of privacy to lick my earlobe. I tensed with anticipation.

Wordlessly, we went to my apartment and she closed the door with her foot, still not separating from me. Angelica stopped me and pressed her body against my back as she lowered herself. Without any warning I felt her teeth on my butt and not in a soft way.

"What the—"

"I'm not going to kiss it, but, there you go. For mocking me," she said playfully before I turned around. She lowered my zipper and went straight to business, jacking me off leisurely. "What turns you on the most?"

"I—that's a tough question."

The exotic but undeniable beauty started jacking me off faster. "I'm sure there's something you want to do with me."

"The Kamasutra?" I had to ask, and then groaning low.

"Ambitious, but how about this?" Angelica took my shaft in both hands and kissed it on the side. Her lips brushed against my sensitive skin until she got to the tip, and then gave it a slow but thorough lick. I gasped. She looked at me with her usual strength and said, "I'll wear you out, but we have to be cautious..."

Angelica whipped out a condom wrapping that was bright purple and read "grape." She took me into her mouth right after that, the implication obvious. "Oh, yesss," I exhaled slowly.

She sucked a bit too hard but pulled back, her lips making a smacking sound after she was separated from me. "To do that, Dante, I really need you in me."

I started to unbutton my suit.

"No, no, keep it on."

I looked at her, surprised.

"What, can't a girl have kinks? A cute guy in a suit? I'd let him do anything to me." Angelica was discovering pretty quickly what buttons to press to turn me on. I sheathed my manhood with the condom and turned towards her. She went over to the official sex couch, but I took her by the hand. It wasn't going to be all her way. While my body might not be huge, I am definitely strong enough to pull a few stunts. I placed my arms around her, found my way down to her thighs from behind and lifted her, and pressed her chest against mine knowing she had no panties. Other than that, we were both fully clothed.

Angelica lowered her hand and found my hard member. She positioned it and I lowered her upon it, piercing her delicious body only an inch or two into her sopping wet pussy. She bit her lip as she stared at me. Using my forearms' strength, I lifted her only a little before letting her drop down, not beyond what I had already penetrated. Her marvelous legs wrapped around my torso and I felt her high heels press against my lower back as I made the motion faster, but not any deeper. My forearms were on fire.

"Just do it, damn it," she urged me, but I feigned ignorance still making her bounce on the first two inches of my dick. Angelica moved her hips in a vain attempt to get me to go deeper.

"Why?" I had to ask.

"Because."

"Why?"

"Just do it, you bastard."

"Why—"

"Because I want your cock, are you happ—" Angelica was about to insult me, but I love interrupting phrases. I stopped supporting her weight and allowed her to take my entire length in a single movement, feeling my cock welcomed by her. She gave a throaty moan of need. Her arms enveloped my torso with more intensity, but she didn't kiss me. She lowered the angle of her face and stared deep into my eyes.

"I told you. I'm only your type"—I adjusted my angle a little, lifted her, and dropped her again on my cock—"when I reach"—I repeated the lifting and readjusted my angle, trying to remember the one that made her go crazy—"right here."

I erased the smugness from her face when I touched exactly what I wanted. I felt my cock head invade her differently. I might have reached her cervix. Angelica whimpered but didn't close her eyes. She was telling me that she wasn't subdued regardless of the pleasure I gave her. I secured her position, with me embedded to the hilt, walked to the nearest wall, and then lifted her slowly.

"You might not be my type," she confessed, her arm snaking down again and her fingernails trailing my length lightly. "This, however, happens to be what I need right now."

"I think we can live with that." I smiled and proceeded to fuck her against the wall with long, deep strokes. My torso remained stationary and my hips did most of the work, withdrawing and then pressing hard against her exquisite body. Her full breasts danced to our private rhythm, her dress barely containing them as I kept on pounding against her body. Each inch of my cock felt the glorious work of Angelica's inner muscles. Her pretty lips opened and she moaned louder for me, her minty breath reaching me, urging me to do more.

Meeting the challenge of making her cum—what I started to do—wasn't fucking her against the wall; the strength, speed, and almost anger behind my moves would qualify as trying to fuck her into the wall. I could hear the thumping of her body against the architecture, my hips slamming into hers, my legs starting to feel the strain of standing sex. After the third or fourth pistoning movement, she moaned loudly with each thrust, her pleasure loud but decidedly not fake, the sounds being similar to the attack of my body—short, strong, loud, but reaching deep.




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 04



"Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!"

One of my hands fleetingly caressed her body but after squeezing her marvelous breasts through the fabric, I trailed my hand down and spanked her just once, hard enough. Neither of us had stopped looking into each other's eyes.

"What turns me on the most," I said, finally answering Angelica's question, "is giving orgasms. Cum for me." She probably hadn't expected a dominating guy to be a giver, but it was the truth. Knowing that my prowess makes a woman melt into orgasmic bliss is the biggest aphrodisiac out there for me. She showed me her perfect teeth in an intense expression of sinful pleasure and nodded. Instead of trying to make me cum, she concentrated on her orgasm.

Our loud sex against the wall took on a new feeling when she embraced me for balance and her hips lasciviously undulated against my body trying to reach the ultimate pleasure. Her inner muscles quivered instead of massaging me and she let out a throaty, loud moan of sexual build-up.

"That's it, cum for me," I urged her, whispering so only she could hear my orders. I could feel her temperature rising; her breathing became erratic as she concentrated on her orgasm.

"Oooh!"

I felt maybe being too aggressive right at that moment wasn't the best strategy, so I kept on whispering in her ear. "You look so fucking hot bouncing on my cock, Angelica." I kept on fucking her without mercy. "How you moan when you take it all."

"OH!"

Apparently, it was working better than simply ordering her to do stuff, so I continued, appreciating how her pussy started to grow tighter when I talked. "Yeah, that's it, oh, that's it."

"OH!"

There was something odd and I finally found it. She was somehow holding back. I closed the distance between my lips and her ear; I licked her earlobe without slowing my thrusting and then whispered, "It's OK, Angelica, you can scream. Say my name. I want you to."

"OH GOD, DANTE, OH! YES!"

The power of her lungs almost stunned me. I was sure that a few of my neighbors, even the ones who didn't know me, were now certain that a guy named Dante was fucking the daylights out of a woman. But my reward was great; her hot, moist pussy closed around my hard dick with more harshness than before, and she didn't need any further prodding.

"FUCK ME, DANTE, FUCK ME!"

I felt my orgasm start to build up quickly—the whole idea of both of us rushing to have intense sex with our clothes on, and the way Angelica was losing control with her body trying to milk me, started to have the intended effect. I found it harder to go all the way in. Her inner walls were clamping down and offering more resistance to my invading meat. She, however, was way closer than I was; it was a matter of a few thrusts for her to cum.

"FUCK ME, FUCK M—AAAGH!"

I felt it even through the condom, how her demanding pussy shut down around me milking me for all it was worth, her arms wrapped around me. Angelica stopped breathing for a while, but I didn't slow down. I wanted her orgasm to be worthy of the screams she had given me. My pistoning motion didn't change the pace once she began cumming—if that was what had worked, I had to keep doing it. My own orgasm was getting nearer, the tightness being overwhelming to my senses. I even felt her lubrication dripping down my balls, her considerable strength made obvious when her legs viciously trapped me.

It went on for I don't know how many seconds, but then, she went limp and her pussy didn't tighten any further. It even relaxed slightly. She looked at me with some trouble focusing her eyes and asked, "Did you cum?"

"I'm near..."

That sprang her into action. She did her best to dislodge from me and I could see that she had a plan, so I allowed it. She went down to her knees, quickly got rid of the condom, and started sucking me with zeal. The difference in textures was heavenly, from being encased in a condom to having her soft, wet tongue directly caressing me. I knew I couldn't last long.

And she was sucking me off like she hadn't done previously when there was some excitement in her reluctance to follow orders. This time, however, she was sucking my dick with something that could only be described as hunger. Angelica was soon going to get the semen she so badly wanted. She jacked me off and kept on bobbing up and down my rock-hard member. Her technique hadn't evolved that much, but the need in her eyes, the desperation to make me finish, was overpowering.

"I'm going to cum, Angelica," I said, telling her what she needed to know although she probably felt my cock getting wider and expanding. Then, the sensations were too much and I couldn't talk any longer. Her luscious lips took me in, deepthroating me, and although she didn't manage it, that was the last straw and I felt my hot essence spouting out. She moaned with satisfaction when the first jet hit the back of her throat, but she probably wasn't expecting it because she pulled back slightly. The second jet hit her on the cheek and she didn't know what to do. She kept on jacking me off, not knowing how or where to aim. The third jet hit her on her chin, the fourth one landed between her breasts, and the final ones just ended up being a mess on her dress. After there was no more hot liquid coming out of me, she messily made out with the head of my cock for a few seconds and I groaned yet again.

"I don't know if I'm doing this again," she admitted. "While it doesn't taste great, it wasn't as bad as I thought."

I pulled her up. With my thumbs, I cleared the excess cum from her face and kissed her on the lips slowly. Her eyes flew open and stayed that way after our mouths separated.

"What? It came out of me. It won't gross me out." I didn't lick her face or anything, but a little remnant never killed anyone.

"Unexpected. But, anyway, that was for confronting Sarah. Now, for saving us from being mugged or whatever..."

I ended up fucking Angelica in various ways that night. I chose three different positions from the Kamasutra and delighted myself with her flexibility. It was complex having our limbs create weird structures, but she rode my cock furiously, and then we switched to something on our sides and I made her cum twice, but it was nothing like pounding her from behind as she whimpered with delight as I filled the condom. For the record, I own a physical copy of the book, but I also have an app on my smartphone. You never know when you're gonna need it. We looked at each other after we were done. She borrowed some workout outfit from me—she didn't think it'd be appropriate to drive home in a semen-stained dress—and departed.

In our unspoken agreement, we were avoiding spending the night together. We seldom kissed during sex and avoided any kind of intimacy other than sex itself. We weren't each other's types and we weren't looking for a relationship, but we were both smart enough not to tempt the odds and body chemistry.

***

Hernán and I had a tough series of days. Work kept piling up on us, courtesy of our boss' mood swings. I had emailed Angelica two days before letting her know that we were having sex. She answered with a simple "No," followed by several lines of winking face emoticons. So she didn't agree to meet and although I liked her strong personality trait, by Friday it wasn't an option anymore, at least for me. On Friday I texted her as I stood by my motorcycle on the company's parking lot.

"Enough games. Come on over by 8. I'll fuck you as hard as you need it."

I got a "WTF?!" as an answer, so I texted her back.

"Don't play coy with me. I'll make you cum hard."

"Dante, seriously, WTF."

Enough teasing. Instead of replying by text, I thought I could talk her into it way easier, so I called her. It didn't even go through a complete ring when she picked up.

"Heyyy," I growled seductively into the phone.

"Dante, what the fuck?" Curiously, the voice of my favorite exotic girl sounded different. Was she sick? No, she sounded like... Pan. Before I finished that thought, however, from the other side of the line a loud hyena laugh interrupted Pan's comment and my possible response. Ralph. The bastard.

"Oh, man!" Ralph's hyena laugh only came out when something was truly hilarious, for him at least. "I was—" We lost him to a few seconds of mad laughter. "I got to actually see him do it!"

"You left your cell phone unattended with Ralph nearby?" Pan's tone was of an experienced adult, shaking his head slowly to the foolish young man, a few remnants of Ralph's 'hoo hoo hoo' laugh weaving with Pan's voice from the background.

"I guess I should be thankful he did that with you and not with my boss's contact," I grumbled. After a few seconds though, I chuckled. "Well, tell the asshole he should watch his back and ask him where's the actual Angelica contact."

"Angelica? Man, you don't waste time," Pan thought out loud, and then asked Ralph, who answered after a few failed attempts of controlling his laughter. "He says it's under 'Plumber.'"

"Thanks, hun, sorry about that."

And indeed, there was a "Plumber" contact. I always store names only. If I input any profession, it was as a last name. Had I been more careful, I would've avoided the episode that, I knew, was going to come back frequently whenever Ralph would be around.

"Heyyy," I growled sexily into the phone, hoping it was not an actual plumber receiving my call.

"Heyyy," Angelica said, imitating my tone as much as she could. "It took you longer than I expected. I thought you'd have called a few days ago."

"Busy week. Not nice at all. So how about you come here and—"

"Nope, it's not going to work like that."

"Ok, forget I asked. Come to my apartment. Now. Let's fuck."

She exhaled on the phone, providing a pause in which I could picture Angelica shuddering in her trademark mixture of anger at not being in control, mingled with arousal due to the same reason.

"No, I"—another pause, she probably was even getting wet—"It won't work. I'm too busy. I'm all over the place getting all the MBA paperwork done and it's due tomorrow."

"I suppose I'll have to dig through my contacts. I don't have the patience to go out and start the whole process of getting someone in bed. Also, I hate it when you're right."

"Now you know what it feels like, dear. But I actually have a suggestion. I happen to know about a certain lady that was quite taken by you. I know where she'll be, and if you play your cards right, it would be today when it happens."

"I would like to know more about your product and/or service. Please do continue."

"Remember the mall? There's this new coffee place where they have tons of organic, locally grown, responsibly farmed, sprinkled-with-unicorn-happiness stuff. She's expecting me in two hours. I want you to text me when you see her so I can call her and cancel just at that time to free her up."

"Who is she?"

"You'll like her and you know her. She likes Icee—the blue flavor. Don't say I didn't give you inside tips."

"I owe you, oh, wise one."

"Stop being a smartass. I only have one request."

"Yeah?"

"Don't hold back," Angelica added in a lower tone so she couldn't be heard, her voice throatier. She was excited and acting rationally rather than letting herself be led by her hormones. "I want her to be babbling about you. Maybe that'll make Trish understand that you're definitely not looking for a relationship right now. She's being too hard on herself, thinking you didn't see her as good enough."

"Do you think I should call her and let her know?"

"No, we didn't have this conversation, so you have no way to know, and it's better this way."

"Got you."

"Not really."

"Hmph."

"Take care, Dante," she purred before hanging up.

By the time I was in front of my apartment building, the sun had already set. I punched in the code and the first door opened. It looked as if it had been the first generation of those locks, and they had added two of those. You had to go through two doors before being able to access the main apartment building courtyard and elevator area. Perhaps the architect took that idea from a bank, where you have to close one door before opening the other, augmenting the sense of security. Whatever the reason, it wasn't rare to hold the door open for a neighbor. And what a neighbor it was. Her hips sashayed gently, but in an undeniably feminine way, and her eyes lit up when she saw me holding the door for her.

Danielle smiled with shyness averting her gaze. And I knew why. The last time we had seen each other was right before Angelica screamed her lungs out in a powerful orgasm. Danielle's shy expression didn't cover her amusement though. I smirked but said nothing, just remembering how I thought I had seen her looking at me getting laid with Trish too. The door closed behind us. She punched the code for the second door when the lights went out. Of course.

I heard Danielle's breath quickening immediately and I became defensive. It wasn't the heavy breathing of arousal; something was very wrong with how she was doing it. She banged on the door wildly and I had to jump in before she hurt herself against the metal bars. I grabbed her hands in the darkened space and she almost went ballistic, her breathing even worse than before.

"Claustrophobic," she managed to say between a gasp and a sob, violently resisting my attempts to calm her down. I didn't know how to manage that kind of thing, so I thought quickly and did what sounded obvious to me.

"Come with me, we'll sit here." I pulled her. When I tried to hug her reassuringly, she almost freaked out again so I kept her close enough, but still with some distance between us, for me to control any outbursts. The room was small, only a few feet across, so I pulled her down and we sat in a corner. She was tense, so I lightly caressed her back and made her face the opposite corner, with her next to me. "Let's look at the corner over there—up—the one on the other end." Danielle tried and trembled slightly. I continued trying to soothe her, caressing her back slowly. "We have to wait for the lights to come back on, but if you sit here, you'll see that the room is bigger than it seemed. I don't—if it helps, close your eyes and imagine yourself in a big ballroom. That's why there's some echo here, because it's so wide..."

And I kept on rambling crap about big rooms, trying to sound convincing. Phobias weren't my area of specialty. After a few minutes, she was in control. Barely. "I'm calling Lish. She lives nearby." Danielle whipped her cell phone out of her purse and couldn't even dial properly.

"It's ok. Somebody should be here in a few minutes."

"Yeah, you're right. There's always somebody trying to go in or out." She was trying to calm herself down by forcing herself to sound more reassured than she was. She closed her eyes and snuggled up to me. More than five minutes went by and neither of us said a word, but I felt her relaxing, her arms' posture becoming more natural and relaxed.

Danielle held two fingers up.

"Ask." I waited for the second of five questions.

"Why did you get upset at Trish's comment?"

"Huh?"

"She said you went all weird when she called you a cheater."

Fuck, this is a good question.

"Ok... I moved here when I was in high school. My brother and I started getting along with the guys that would be named "the boy band"—Mike, Gabriel, and Pan. Suddenly Ralph was in the group. My brother used the newfound popularity because he was smitten with this girl named Yuliya. Russian, a year younger, she had gone through the same "exotic animal from another country" process, so he was hooked on her.

"They'd do random stuff, pretend they didn't speak English to get out of trouble. They were the official couple of the boy band. He commuted crazy hours to see her. And one day, Ralph came by, pissed off, dragged by Gabriel and Pan, from this party we hadn't been invited to. Galahad's girlfriend's engagement party. Ralph mistakenly got an invite for it and saw it happen."

Danielle did the whole doe-eye thing that I hated when people pitied me or my brother; no wonder I never told that story again. She allowed me to continue, however, and her previous stress slowly receded.

"He never found out when he went from 'the main guy' to 'the other man.' To make things sweeter, the guy that had been in love with her that thought 'all's fair in love and war,' had been our supposed best friend, so they always knew how and when to sneak around because we trusted him. Ralph took the news as good as Galahad would've, but he's considerably stronger. Mike got pummeled. They have since been isolated from our group and he knows that even now neither Galahad nor I will be civil enough to tolerate his presence. Hers, we can ignore."

I wasn't done. I had to admit that I wasn't a flaming opposer to anything related to cheating since I didn't have a perfectly clean record. Just not a stained one. "I've seen enough cases of cheating to never judge. However, I don't go straight to branding women as sluts or anything. And life isn't a fairy tale. I've been with girls in relationships, telling myself that it's OK if that'll be a lesson or payback to the guy. I'm no saint and it doesn't make sense. But that's how it is."

From relaxed, Danielle went to too relaxed. That damn pity thing. She didn't even notice it, but her hand—from being against my chest—she finally let go limp and it softly slid down to my groin. She wasn't doing it slyly. She hadn't even noticed where her hand was. That didn't mean though that I didn't feel it. It was my turn to try to control my breathing and not let her know that she was getting me horny. But I shuddered, and then she opened her eyes and looked at me.

I was staring at her hungrily and she didn't understand for a second. When she tried to move, her hand moved and her fingertips unwittingly trailed my length through the fabric. I moaned in a low tone and volume before I could help myself. Her eyes flew open and her hand darted away as if my cock had been a red-hot piece of metal. The irony of the whole situation didn't escape me.

"Dante, this shouldn't happen," Danielle said, her tone strange. "We can't let it happen."

Interestingly enough, no "this can't happen" or "it won't happen," the hypocrite within my mind told me.

"I know. That doesn't prevent me from enjoying...whatever we've been doing," I told her breathily. I didn't know what prompted me to say that. Well, I did. My dick was taking over and my brain was losing the battle. But apparently, she didn't see my inner turmoil and smiled mischievously, thinking it was still as naughtily innocent as always.

"We do have a strange friendship," she said, smirking, acknowledging that we'd had a few close calls, and she seemed to enjoy it. I still had to find a way to win her over cleanly.

She kept on snuggling against me, not caressing me or touching me inappropriately; neither did I do anything to her. And yet, our breathing wasn't going down to normal. We were both enjoying the rush of being together—knowing that I was hot for her—but my will was strong enough to allow us to play a dangerous game. It was probably one of the most erotic moments of my life and we didn't do a single thing that could've been condemned. I just let myself cherish her body against mine, our slightly tense postures and the heavy tension between us.

Words weren't needed. We were communicating in so many ways that defied the standard, and still, it was like a conversation. Danielle would breathe deeply and I would synchronize my breathing rhythm to hers. I would sigh, and in response, she shuddered against me. I felt a shiver run down my spine when she did anything. At one point, I exhaled slowly near her ear, taking her scent in, and she tensed up again, but I couldn't sense the claustrophobia in the tension.




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 04



Overall, the experience of being trapped, her crisis, my confession, and our snuggling took less than twenty minutes, and then the light came back on. Danielle jumped happily and input the code to go outside. She didn't feel like going into the apartment complex just then.

When she opened the door, there were three individuals waiting. A gentle-looking, older Asian man, a young woman of mixed heritage looking at us with an arched eyebrow, and a balding male with evident discomfort etched on his face. The way he looked at me told me everything I needed to know about what he thought. I held out my hand, slowly, and touched him on the shoulder. My stern gaze's message should've been obvious, but just in case I said, "We got stuck in the elevator. Take her somewhere open and let her calm down. She almost lost it."

Judging by his looks, Jason obviously didn't like what had apparently transpired between Danielle and me, and yet he seemed to give my suggestion a try, for he appeared to notice the stress in Danielle's face and silently took her hand and guided her to his car. I watched him step closer to her and say something into her ear. I wouldn't have been surprised if he was trying to smell any olfactory evidence of sex. The way Jason was around Danielle didn't match the boyfriend role; it looked possessive but not protective, close but not warm.

***

I ended up strolling in the new mall after changing my look to something between casual and formal, only more formfitting and in earthy shades. The recommended Icee was bought and I almost squirmed when I tasted the overpowering sweetness of the slushy beverage. It had been a long time since I had tried junk food, and although it didn't taste bad, I didn't feel the temptation to go back to it. Eventually, I got to the café that Angelica had mentioned and I scanned the patrons. I found her and my horniness zinged back to life. I texted my exotic friend.

Right on cue, the girl received a call as I admired her beauty. She was wearing a sleeveless shirt that exposed her back and revealed a tattoo that I hadn't seen before—a beautifully detailed phoenix that flowed from below her shoulder blade and I assumed that ended somewhere in the middle of her back. The red, orange, and yellow fire blending techniques were flawless, the proportions of the bird correct, the shading precise. It was a true masterpiece that probably had cost a pretty penny. Her hair was still tied up in a bun, her slanted, dark eyes visible through the mildly tinted eyewear, her fine Oriental features a mixture of cute and sexy. She might have been young, but for me, her age was impossible to guess. With Oriental women I never got it right, but she looked in the right age bracket for me. Clarissa and I had only seen each other when Trish introduced us and I had revealed some fashion-related knowledge. The girl had style. She rocked a slightly androgynous style that fit well with her petite frame. Her pretty features changed with the phone call and frustration emerged in them. I took it as my cue and started to walk in her general direction.

She hung up, folding her cell phone and pouting slightly. I was nearing her when she stood up and saw me. She beamed her perfect smile and unabashedly called my name before I tried to greet her. I waved in recognition and approached her.

"Clarissa."

"How are ya?" Clarissa's accent made it obvious that her first language was English, and even if I had spent a while in Japan, I couldn't place her features. I decided not to risk a blunder by calling her Chinese and then finding out her genes came from Korea.

"Just walking around after I went over to Angelica's store but never got to check the rest of the mall—"

"Angelica's store?"

"Yeah, the clothing one?"

"Angelica's father doesn't own that store. He's one of the mall's owners."

"Whoa." I thought Trish had said the store. Or did she say it was Angelica's dad's business? Whatever the case, whoa indeed. Angelica's income made mine look like a second grader's allowance.

"So you're just walking—is that blue raspberry Icee?" Her passion for the sugary thing was serious.

"Yeah..." I made a deliberate pause to give the second part a few possible meanings. "Want some?"

She smiled before nodding, not letting me know if the innuendo went unnoticed. Clarissa wolfed down on the thing after I let her know that I had gotten a size too large for my appetite. We strolled around the closing stores in the mall. Our options were getting limited, but I enjoyed the chat. She was a just-graduated designer that focused on product packaging. She wanted to work in the fashion industry creating shoeboxes, watch display cases, and similar stuff, but our banter mostly revolved around clothing. From a safe distance, we ended up touching frequently while talking, our physical attraction obvious but ignored in our talk. Clarissa ended up with her arm in mine. What I found fascinating was that a guy that knew about fashion turned her on, so I played that card and did so right after she laughed about the time it took me to pick a shirt before buying it. She didn't mean anything when she said, "I bet your closet must look better than most clothing store racks."

But when I saw an opportunity, I took it. "You're welcome to see it anytime since you understand these things."

"Don't tempt me!"

"Really, I don't mind."

"I don't know if I should. I mean, after all, Trish is kinda pissed about whatever happened... But Angelica did start...'seeing' you, so...I don't know." She was troubled about her loyalties.

"You know about Angelica?"

"We all do."

I almost put my palm against my face. It wouldn't have surprised me if suddenly my room became a place you could 'check in' on social media so everyone knew who I was with at the time. "I see."

"Are you upset?"

"Not really. I don't kiss and tell, but I don't expect everybody to do so. If that's the level of confidence between you girls, it's actually pretty neat." Except it makes me feel like a man whore.

"Good!"

"Anyway, whenever you feel like seeing my clothes, let me know. I don't want to make things weird. You need a ride somewhere?"

"I can call my— Well, it is early, and we're only going to look at clothes, right?"

It was a damn lie and we both knew it. My mind suddenly awoke for real. If I wanted Danielle, it wouldn't be right, nor smart, to do what I had been thinking about doing with Clarissa. I already had had enough issues with Trish and my lesson about no more teenaged girls should have a check mark on it. "Why the doubts? Would you get in trouble?"

"No, well..." Clarissa said, hesitating. I didn't want to turn her down after hinting at sex so much, so I had to maneuver the conversation to make it seem as if she didn't want to do it. "My dad is pretty paranoid about me going out if he doesn't know who I'm with."

"Well, taking into account how things are in the city as of late, I can't blame him." I tried a bit more steering. "So if you end up coming over, you'd need a good cover story, I guess, huh?"

"Yeah..." Clarissa's doubt was already there and bigger than before.

"I don't want to be associated with trouble just right now." Already too late. "Do you need a ride home?"

***

After dropping Clarissa off at a massive house, possibly a manor, I whipped out my cell phone and called a number that was soon to be in my speed dial.

"Are you done so fast?"

"Angelica, we have to talk."



An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 05



I'd like to thank LadyVer for editing this.

There are TWO author notes this time and an author note after the chapter's done.

1. There's a hauntingly beautiful song referenced in this text: Bolero from TVXQ. It's in Japanese, so I did my best to pen it down in English, for fluidity's sake. I marked it with two asterisks**. If you feel like it, click on a YouTube link when you reach the point where it's included. I wrote the scene down listening to it. Should be sexy enough.

2. Part of Dante's past is revealed in this chapter. If you're uncomfortable reading about topics like male rape, skip the paragraphs in italics where Dante relates his past.





"Dante, you didn't do it. How come you disappoint me, now? You were supposed to do your magic and leave Clarissa mindless."

Almost a week had gone by since my close encounter with Danielle. With Angelica trying to get me to fuck Clarissa, her cute Asian friend, I pretended I didn't hear her comment regarding me as if I were a mating bull being appraised by a breeder. And, since she was pulling her cell phone out, I knew there was something else going on. There was a seriousness to Angelica's expression that I didn't like. It was common to see her with a face that expressed contempt, but never concern.

"Which brings us to the next point. Trish is still conflicted about you, you know? She acts as if she hates you, then she raves about how you are...all starry eyed and stuff. But now that there's other things going on, it's weirder."

"My. I'm avoiding her because I imagine it can only be worse if we see each other. There's chemistry, but not the right kind for a relationship. There's this—well, it wouldn't be good."

"I believe you. That's why I wanted to do this Clarissa thing. She didn't say anything, but she always became interested in the talk whenever it got to your...abilities, let's say, so maybe she would be the one that could tempt you. You're hardly boyfriend material when you've been with L, Trish, and me," Angelica said.

"Why, thank you." Fuck. Fuck. "But that's also why I turned her down."

"Are you offended? Dante, Clarissa last time said that it was a rite of passage, that if you haven't slept with Dante, you're not a full member of the club. I would've thought a guy might take that as a compliment."

"Normally," I admitted. But there was something in her tone that tickled my brain. She was analyzing something; this woman was smart. There was an ulterior motive to this talk.

"I know you're not the typical guy, but why not? After all, you've done what most men only fantasize about."

Other than boosting her ego, I knew there was something behind all that, so I started thinking fast. She wants me to talk about why I feel like that regarding my conquests among her friends. Which means that she's interested in my opinion of one of her friends, or her. Which meant that there's the possibility of someone wanting to date me. Or maybe someone who I haven't slept with...

"Angelica, I have a few things I consider personal. I don't go around divulging things that are private."

"You're right. Like that Spanish thing. If Danielle hadn't asked you, I wouldn't have thought you were foreign."

"I consider myself local, by now." And Danielle is a very good option of why she's probing around, so... "Yeah, how is she?"

Her expression hardened. "She's been having a lot of doubts and she's not getting a lot of help from you, according to popular opinion. I think you're doing a great job, but, well..."

"Yes?"

"Jason and her, well, you've seen how they don't look like an actual loving couple. What worries me is that he's been asking questions."

"About me?"

"Do you think that every girl that looks at you just wants to jump you?"

"I'd like to think so." Especially her. I smirked.

"But no, he hasn't asked any questions about you. More about clarity, color, cut, and carats."

None of the things rang a bell until she said "carats." I wanted to create a new insult to express the frustration I felt. Suddenly, Angelica's maneuvering made sense.

"Properties of a stone." For a guy who prided himself in showing only the emotions he wanted known, I had failed on that one.

"Yes, most engagement rings are topped by a diamond. Those are the things people look for, besides a lot of tiny details," she said, attempting a smile. "One of my areas of specialty, as you know."

"I guess." Still, there was a question I hope I got the answer for without prodding. Instead, she reached out and touched my hand, her expression still thoughtful. I didn't like the fact that she could read me up to a certain point, which many weren't able to. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I like you," she stated simply. "I hate Jason." The truth surprised me, but there was something she held back. I could tell, and felt like a pawn. I left that secret untouched for the time being. "Now, I know that you're off from not doing something with Clarissa, so I think you have one left in you, at least."

I studied the possibilities. I might have to turn down sex twice in a day, unheard of in my history. Yet, Danielle was probably out of my reach by then. The tension of the news, however, gave me extra energy that I needed to get rid of. Also, Angelica was safe; she didn't show any interest in me, nor I in her. At least romantically speaking. If I were going to get any, it'd have to be her or nothing. "Sounds like a good plan, ma'am. Let's do this."

There were no pretenses this time. I followed her to the house where she lived with housemates in a very nice part of town. The house was old, but not in a decrepit way. It probably had been there since the Victorian era; it was huge. The decoration was sober but still important for the design. I probably would remember more if I had stopped to take its beauty in, but I wasn't in the mood for that. Angelica walked in front of me, our vehicles parked behind us, and opened the door to her house. The sounds of electrical humming were the only ones to receive us; we were alone.

The interior was filled with state-of-the art appliances, fine stone surfaces, discreet lamps, and overall, a decoration that wasn't ostentatious but still left no doubt about the kind of money the inhabitants had access to. Her room was the first one upstairs, and once we were inside, it seemed as if she had chosen the decoration of the house. Everything had the quaint, but tasteful and expensive quality seen before.

Her milk-chocolate skin became exposed little by little as she opened her blouse slowly, seductively. Apparently, she had the intention of making this slow and lasting, unlike the last time we had been together. I needed that kind of thing—intense sex that would consume me if I gave into my needs. Before she reached halfway though, I stopped her. She sent me an inquisitive glance, and I responded with a stern one. It was my turn to unbutton my shirt only halfway. Then I put my hands inside of her blouse and caressed her skin. I kissed her jawbone, her neck, my hands actively moving around, sliding all over her beautiful body. Angelica got the gist right away. Soon we were making out like I hadn't done since I had been a teenager.

Her hands transmitted a sense of urgency that rivaled mine. Her body was made for sex and I wanted it right then, but at the same time—with enough build-up—the wait would be worth it. We kissed on the lips briefly, but mostly nibbled and trailed our lips over different areas of each other's necks. My arms were desperate in their attempts to reach further down, to grope at her hungrily. Quickly, one of her hands deftly avoided my pant's border and slid under it, pressing against my skin, but not all the way down. Her fingers closed around my shaft through the boxer briefs, making me moan for her. I massaged her breasts, kneading them gently, feeling the entrancing texture of her underwear yielding to the pressure, inhaling the sweet scent of an aroused woman.

One of my hands gingerly trailed down making as much contact as possible with her skin. I struggled momentarily with her rude panty elastic that kept on getting in my way until I bypassed it and tentatively stroked a much more sensitive path towards her labia. Her sharp intake of air hurried me, and I began to massage her lower lips with urgency, feeling its addictive wetness coating my fingertips as I worked on her. She happily gave me a private moan, barely audible, right into my ear, when my fingers began to probe delicately. Angelica decided to return the favor and took my member in her hands. My cock was hard and welcomed her touch. I needed the sensation, but not the intention. I wanted to be the aggressor, the one doing, not receiving. I suppose it happens often when your personality is a bit dominating and you're also a "giver".

I pushed her back to the bed and kissed her exposed body. While she struggled with her clothing, I trailed my lips over her luscious skin that was colored like a dark fine wood. Eventually, we were both nude. I feasted upon her beauty, first by looking at her, then by kissing her legs with scorching need, moving closer and closer to her mound. My hands roamed incessantly all over her. I needed more. I kissed between her thighs repeatedly, avoiding her labia, until I saw her wetness become evident. Then I licked her lasciviously using my tongue to probe around with need. I didn't want to cum yet. I wanted to make her cum, hard. I needed to feel I was in control of at least one situation in my life, and Angelica was the chosen one.

I kissed her sex with urgency. She responded by grabbing my head and pushing. Normally, that would've been the thing to do with me, but everything as of late hadn't been normal. I stopped her from trying to control my movements by grasping her wrist while continuing my ministrations. My fingers tickled her before going inside of her heated body. Once inside, I massaged and teased her inner walls, and she contracted her muscles. I kept on licking her, the taste of her arousal filling my senses and mind.

She moaned for me, and when I started fingering her while eating her out, she cursed aloud. The volume she used wasn't the same as the one she had shocked me with, loud and unabashed, but still higher than the norm. It was still not enough for me.

Her trembling body told me I was on the right path as my fingers penetrated her faster and faster. My tongue's movements were seemingly random, but had a goal—to make her cum hard using my knowledge of her physique. For only a few seconds I pulled away from her pussy, not slowing my fingers down. More.

"Do you have condoms around?" I never kept them in my wallet or on my motorcycle. I knew what heat and friction could do to unopened ones.

"I," she gasped before continuing, "have one there."

She pointed, and I debated between getting one or teasing her some more. I looked in the direction she pointed and saw a small drawer. I reached out and on the first try found one. Not my brand of choice, but it'd have to do. I raced back to her to resume my licking, fingering, and teasing with renewed vigor. If Angelica's excitement had been winding down because she hadn't been touched for a few seconds, I made up for it. I had avoided her clit, but now that I had a condom, there was no reason not to give her the sensations I could make her feel. The trademark rolling R sound was the technique that I chose to use on her clit. Her body tensed and didn't relax as long as I kept up the sound.

"OH!" Angelica was being loud again. Good.

When the lack of oxygen demanded I breathe, I stopped doing it and she went almost limp. Her break was short. With redoubled need, my tongue attacked her again. I used different approaches so I could breathe without letting her recover from the sensations. She became louder and cursed wildly, but I couldn't stop. I could even feel my tongue going numb because I was abusing it, but it was what I needed.

"OH! FUCK! YES, DANTE!" I was pretty sure Dante was about to get some reputation with her neighbors. She began cumming hard. Her hands on my head trembled and her body shook. As I felt her orgasm subsiding, I withdrew my fingers from her, yet my tongue kept working. Even when she gently tried pulling me away, I didn't follow the nudge. As expected, with another shout, another orgasm began for Angelica. I unwrapped the condom. It was an awkward position to put the condom on since my weight was mostly on her hips and my tongue wasn't slowing down. It took me a while to get the condom on. As Angelica continued to climax, I bent my back and positioned my hips as near as I could to hers without breaking contact between my tongue and her. To coordinate my own actions better, I gave myself a 3...2...1...

Immediately, I spread her legs wider, propped myself up, and easily sank myself into her. She yelped because she wasn't getting any pause after me giving her a few orgasms with my tongue. Without further complications, I fucked her, hard, for as long as I could. After screaming one orgasm, she'd calm down almost to a point where I'd think she would fall asleep, but then she'd get tense and began moaning louder for the next one. My hips already knew what to do. Angelica's movements always were intense. I was well aware of her aggressive behavior in bed. But what was happening was a different experience for me. Although almost going too wild, I was fully aware of what I was doing: it was automatic and at the same time deliberate.

Angelica was cumming over and over. I had to be quick to not fuck her raw since her pussy was getting to be more and more sensitive as I went on. I could feel one orgasm and the small pause before the next, and the space between them was getting progressively shorter. In one of those pauses, the exotic beauty opened her eyes, and instead of looking at me with wonder or bewilderment, she simply winked at me, looking at our bodies, how I fucked her in a way that could only be described as athletic.

That didn't stop her from gasping and moaning when my cock reached that point deep within her, triggering the next orgasm as our coupling quickly became frantic. She squeezed me so hard, and I felt my own orgasm dangerously getting near. I went at it with all I had, and since she had already cum, I had no worry behind how long I'd last. Perhaps her screams weren't as loud, but I could still see that I was giving her the fucking of a lifetime.

"I'm gonna cum..." I don't know why I warned her, but still, it felt like the nice thing to do.

"Yes! Oh, fuck, YES!" 

It was as if she had invited the situation to happen. As soon as she said it, I felt my cock expand and my muscles tense in preparation for the inevitable blast of pleasure, the surge of energy and loss of control that orgasm brings. I bared my teeth as I exploded inside the condom. The only things that existed in the world for me was feeling the great wave of pleasure run over me, hearing her throaty moans, the heat of our bodies, the staggering orgasm we experienced.

"I don't know if doctors order that, but they should," I said, coming back from my high, looking at the ceiling, feeling the tension of a complicated week starting to ease. Barely.

"Yeah, I almost feel like giving you a high five," Angelica told me, looking happier.

"By the way—this Clarissa thing—it's not happening again."

"Why?" 

"It's not that she's ugly—don't play dumb with me." I knew she suspected many of my intentions about Danielle, and I wasn't about to pour my heart out.

"Well, yeah, I had a few reasons why I wanted you to do that, but I think there's already enough drama with Trish. And yet, I wanted you to, but if you don't, we'll figure something out."

I discovered men can feel bad about being used sexually. Even more so if it hinders other goals. "Yeah, let's not do that again." I blatantly ignored the question.

"Don't give up," she said, and before I could question what she meant, she continued. "Dante dear, if you don't leave now, you'll do your walk of shame because my roommates should be here any minute."

"There's no shame in making you scream like that, but I'll go, just in case."

Angelica's cocktail mix of genes was beautiful to behold, but I had a lot of things to do and a lot to think about. I got up and dressed quickly, then made a hasty exit. Hasty enough that when I opened the front door, I remembered I had left my helmet in her room. The sound of me closing the door had triggered a commotion upstairs. I heard a door open and quick footsteps before another woman's voice floated downstairs.

"Aaangiiie, you finally have a boyfriend that knows his stuff!" Whoever that was, the teasing tone was obvious.

"You were here the whole time, then." The tone in Angelica's voice went back to the deprecating one I knew well. "He's not my boyfriend."

Sensing an awkward moment coming up, I shouted out before I heard something I didn't want to hear. "Hey, Angelica? I left my helmet up there!"

I ran up the stairs to find a mischievous-looking young brunette who appraised me as I entered the room. Making haste, I retrieved my helmet and went back out. Both Angelica and her housemate were looking at me, and my terribly hot friend gave me a wink, again. It was at that moment I realized she was more than simply a no-strings-attached fuck; she was a friend. Why I suddenly considered her as such, those were reasons still unknown to me, but I rarely erred in those cases.

***

I arrived late, I had just unbuttoned my vest when I saw movement to my right. On the opposite side of my window, Danielle's own window looked upon the corridor and straight towards my apartment. It was dark, but with the curtains open, it was still light enough for me to see a silhouette cut against the darker background. Danielle was wearing some kind of formal clothing, as if she had another school event or maybe some kind of dinner. When she waved, I waved back, with less energy than normal. I'll be damned if I know why I care about her. But I do.

My inner dialogue was cut short when I saw her unbutton her own formal coat and leave it open in the exact same manner as mine. As this progressed, my eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and I tentatively removed my vest, then dropped it near me. Danielle mimicked my movement with a teasing smile on her lips, removing her coat and standing in a pose similar to mine. I heard myself breathing harder as I unbuttoned my shirt with painfully slow movements and saw her doing the same with the same parsimony as me. I opened up my shirt slightly to reveal my skin underneath, but didn't get rid of it. When I saw a flash of her skin and the hint of a lacy bra, adrenaline was flowing through my veins as if I were about to jump from a tall building.

I undid the button of my pants and dropped them. The height of the window would not let me see all of her body; if I took my underwear off, she'd probably see part of my manhood, but not all of me. I exhaled slowly when I saw my incredibly hot neighbor step out of her formal dress and stand in front of me, her voluptuous chest heaving slightly. Her legs were slightly thinner than I had thought. Her gorgeous hips made her look curvy; they were just inviting me to bite them. She had a body that I definitely wanted. As close as we were, I found myself cursing the distance between our windows but unable to stop playing whatever game we were in the middle of.

Shrugging to myself, I opened up my shirt a bit more and the thrill of watching Danielle do the same was intoxicating. I dropped my shirt and stood there, breathing heavily, my torso exposed for her to see. Danielle's throat seemed to go dry, for she gulped hungrily and repeated my movement with her own clothing: discarding her blouse, standing in front of me like a bashful pin-up model. For all her shyness, she was teasing at the same time. Nothing short of perfect. I stopped breathing when I slowly reached for my underwear's elastic band and began pulling it down slowly. She reached for the back of her bra, and I saw the garment lose tension. I exposed half of my length for her, and she dropped her bra, but she covered her breasts. I still wasn't able to see her nipples.




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 05



I kept on lowering my underwear and covered my cock with my hand since she hadn't seen it all and I hadn't seen everything—it was only fair. Danielle turned around and dropped her hands, I saw her flawless back, which sent my heart racing. I exposed my member slowly when she turned her head to look at me, her back still pointed towards me. As I was about to show her the last part of me she hadn't seen, she began turning around slowly, and I stopped, mesmerized. Her nipples were about to be on display. I could partly see the shape of her breasts. I forgot how to move, breathe, or think. Right before I moved my hands to the sides for her to see me completely, she smiled at me and walked out of the window frame.

I moaned in frustration and let my underwear touch the floor. Just as I turned around, some more movement caught my eye. I looked and there was a tiny hand holding up a set of lacy, pink panties. Danielle dropped them and without stepping near the window, she energetically waved goodbye. 

Even if I had just cum a few hours ago, my heart was racing, and I was horny like a wolf in heat.

It wouldn't have been smart to call Angelica for a quick fuck, Trish was out of the question, just as Clarissa was, which left me with... I looked at my right hand and sighed.

***

We had just finished watching a movie at Ralph's, delivering and receiving friendly banter, Alice, the host, and I just destroying the acting of the evil guy whose performance had been too stereotypical of a late 70's movie; every plot twist wasn't much of a twist. The comments were backed by tremendous technical aspects in Maria, Ralph and Pan's cases since they did media-related stuff for a living. Alice and I didn't have much knowledge, but we were entitled to our opinion. It was barely four p.m., and we had watched a few movies that were the mediatic group's homework, and Ralph had decided to turn it into a group meet-up. We had become a bit closer in the few months.

Then, the phone rang and I was curious since Danielle had never called me. My stomach sank due to the possible reason behind the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, neighbor!" Her tone was still bubbly. "We're having an informal dinner, and we were wondering if you wanted to come on over!"

"Today?" Let's hope it's not the engagement party. Selfish as it was, it was the truth. I didn't want that.

Danielle must've heard the reluctance in my tone. "Are you busy?"

Before I could answer, another voice came up on the line. "Come onnnn, Danteee. Your harem wants to see you!"

"Clarissa, what the hell is wrong with you?" Angelica?

"Ah, come on, as if you haven't gotten a ride on the—"

"So! Dante! You're coming, right?" Danielle cut off the sentence I wanted to hear.

"Heh, yeah, I'm in." Regardless of how horny I could get, my brain still worked enough for me not to expect an orgy or anything outlandish (read: porn-worthy). The bickering on the other end of the line was cut after a happy bye from Danielle. There was again a lot on my mind.

"So, you gettin' laid, bro?" Ralph, of course, was grinning.

"I have no idea."

***

I had some trouble getting my longer hair into place, but I had managed to do it and found myself with doubts before ringing Danielle's doorbell. While I didn't have any outlandish expectations, that hadn't stopped me from taking a bath and using a nice, alluring cologne placed in very strategic zones of my body. Because you never know. A few seconds after pushing the button, a sexy Asian woman opened the door, and while she didn't say anything besides "welcome," the twinkle in her eyes told me much more than that.

Sitting around my neighbor's living room were a few of the girls I had met before: Najwa, the beauty from the Middle East; Angelica, the tattooed nice girl with hipster looks; Angelica, the uppity young woman who was a tornado in bed; and Clarissa, the Asian girl I would've gotten to know more privately a few days ago had I been less focused. I said my helloes in a general way when someone stepped right behind me and I turned to see L and Hunter. The entire meeting thing was starting to look more and more ominous. Danielle didn't look nervous or too terribly excited although she looked incredibly attractive. We were all seated and having small talk about crabmeat or such and when the food was about to be unveiled. I was at least curious about what food it was going to be since it was a potluck kind of event. I thanked Danielle for not making me cook since nobody would've appreciated that, and she smirked. That smirk sent signals straight to a place between my legs. The moment you let your guard down, I'm going to fuck you.

I saw that Danielle was looking into my eyes, and I was staring back hungrily, but the last thought was like an inner slap. Somewhere in the last weeks, our games had been getting out of control, and my perception of her had been changing and evolving along the way. It had gone from "if I could have a night with her" all the way to this last one, and I knew something had to be done.

The interruption to my thought flow came from the doorbell. Danielle came out of her trance and went over to get the door while Angelica and Clarissa were looking at me with knowing smirks, Najwa was studying me intently, and Lish (or Nice Angelica) was curiously eyeing me. Hunter seemed to be thoughtful as if trying to decide if I could be a threat. Lorelai appeared to be having some kind of déjà vu. Unwittingly, we had become the center of attention without our knowledge.

"You have to stop looking at girls like that," the Asian girl chided. Angelica's expression was something between agreement and another almost unreadable thing, but I thought I saw her urging me to not stop.

My answer was cut short when we heard the typical squeal girls make when they see each other after a long time. Trish and a man stood on the doorway. The introductions were made. Adam was a handsome black man, who when he spoke, made me feel like a savage; he enunciated each word carefully and spoke with incredible culture without making me feel like he was talking down to me. If I talked like a brute compared to him, Hunter sounded nothing short of a grunting caveman.

The meals were unveiled to "ooh's" and "aah's" and we ate as ravenously as you can when you're being polite. What I didn't like was the way Trish looked at me. It almost seemed as if Adam was a way to get back at me, and although, fortunately, he didn't look infatuated with Trish, they were obviously a couple. The redhead was being very immature about our situation. She caressed him randomly with a glint of daring in her eye and talked into his ear whenever there was something she wanted him to know... The teen managed to make it slightly subtle, but not enough for Adam not to notice. He started giving hints of being uncomfortable, so of all things, it was me who came out to the rescue.

"Adam! You mentioned something about France. Where have you been?"

I sparked the conversation to point it towards things that would isolate the men. After minutes of trying, the women were talking in a circle and the three men were exchanging experiences lived in college. Or something. The party was dying down, and every now and then I would lock eyes with Angelica, who smiled at me confidently, letting me know that she was aware of the more secret glances Danielle and I were sharing. Then Adam sat up, and Trish joined him. They started saying goodbye, and when it came to me, she pressed her body against Adam as she was politely bidding me good night; her date warmly shook my hand and looked at the girl from the East Coast with some annoyance. I felt bad for Trish. I didn't wish her any evil, but toying with a man to get back at me for a slight I felt I hadn't committed was too much.

Lish was next. We got entangled in a small conversation about the technique used on her arm's tattoo before she disappeared from the event, followed by Lorelai and Hunter. Najwa was very polite but kept her distance as if she thought I was trying to actively seduce all of them. I found myself with Clarissa, Angelica, and Danielle who were quietly chatting among themselves when I turned around. The first thought that went through my mind was to get out of there. I couldn't be alone with Danielle in her apartment knowing how I was starting to think; it wouldn't end very well. Then, my neighbor lifted three fingers, making me quickly signal Clarissa and Angelica with my eyes, letting her know that I might skip the answer until later if I chose to do so.

"Five of your favorite things," the curvy brunette stated.

"Co—"

"Other than sex," Angelica deadpanned.

"Damn, you guys are good. I was about to say 'cowgirl,'" I admitted. "Ok. Persimmon and or dates in any presentation... What else? Gray is my favorite color for clothing..." The three were listening intently. I knew right then that I succeeded at not telling much about me. "Cold colors for lighting. My apartment has bluish tones on every light bulb. Reading breaking news on the scientific world"—I eyed Angelica on that one—"and... hmmm... complex music, anything from a mixture of genres all the way to atonal." I didn't like being the focus of attention, so I asked the first thing that popped up in my mind. "So, where's Jason?"

"Oh, he... he went out with his friends." Danielle didn't like it one bit, and I didn't press the issue.

"I think it's getting late. Tomorrow's a work day," I excused myself. "Thank you. I'll let you girls do your sleepover thing."

"Don't you want to join us?" Clarissa said that to be chastised by a fulminating gaze from Angelica. I smirked and left the apartment.

And yet, a few minutes later, I received a text from Angelica. "Sleep with one eye open."

Ominous as it was, I didn't allow myself to sleep soundly, and yet, nothing would've prepared me for what happened a few hours later.

A soft knock on my apartment's door, and my eyes flew open. I sat up without making a sound to don a pair of pajama pants and see what was about to go on. I opened the door to a woman possessing an enviable dark skin color and wonderful breasts staring at me with hunger for only a moment before jumping towards me and kissing me with feral passion. I tasted—

"What the fuck, Angelica?" That was a hard slap! This crazy— What the fuck? Is she kissing me again?

Kissing wouldn't entirely describe what she was doing to me; she was almost fucking my face with her mouth after slapping me without holding her strength back. Between confused and flabbergasted, I couldn't decide whether to feel angry or turned on. Conflabbergastedly horny, I thought childishly, like when I used to create new words for situations that I hadn't lived through before. And I was right: I tasted alcohol on her. Big surprise. Angelica slammed the door behind us and she almost dragged me to my bedroom while hurriedly getting rid of her clothes and lowering both my pajama bottoms and boxers in a single move. She caressed my length hungrily and pressed her naked body against mine, still kissing me. Angelica separated her lips from mine for a second.

Breathily, the gorgeous woman ordered, "Get a condom, I want you to fuck me hard."

Find a guy who will say "no" to that one.

Not hearing any alcohol-induced slurring, nor seeing any evident clumsiness, I knew that the exotic beauty was sober enough to know what I was about to do to her. I had to get a condom. Fast. I had it in the palm of my hand quickly, the nightstand having still a few, and I felt her hand closing around my cock, making me gasp with pleasure when she flicked her tongue over it. Instead of going down on me, however, she placed herself on the bed, facing up. Her hands found her sex and she slowly showed me her wet fingers so I would know she didn't want—or need—foreplay.

"Do it."

I climbed on top of her, gently probed her lower lips with my dick, and after a few seconds, I pushed in. Her velvety, warm tightness engulfed me as she contracted her inner walls, hard. We both gasped with pleasure. I closed my eyes and pulled back until almost all of my length was out, and then plunged back in with strength. She wanted to get fucked; she was getting fucked. After two or three tentative thrusts, I began slamming my hips into hers, letting my mind recede and my instinct take over—she pushed me back.

"Get off me!" Angelica yelped, pushing me with greater strength. There was something in the way she said it that let me know she was serious, and I jumped back pulling out of her, my confusion going from really high to uncharted regions. Then, she began sobbing. What. The. Fuck.

And yet, the chivalrous aspect of me, weird as it might be, awoke. I removed the condom and laid down with her holding my hands out in a calming gesture. I held her tempting body as she cried herself to sleep. Feeling her relax, the tiredness I was feeling kicked in, but I couldn't sleep right away. My mind just wasn't satisfied with the situation. I tried to figure out what the hell had happened. Before I could, however, I crashed.

I woke up to a wonderful feeling. Soft kisses on my chest and then to my abs, then up and down again in a sensuous cycle that made me stir. Angelica was on top of me looking sheepish.

"I'm sorry about last night."

"We have to talk about this."

"We do," she said, sighing. "Jason came for Danielle last night, saying he wanted to take her out for a drink. It happened just as Clarissa and I were leaving. When they went down the stairs, behind her back, Jason showed me the blue box."

I felt a pang of something. Words had been failing me lately.

"Clarissa almost shrieked with excitement, but I shut her up in time. And then I got a call from my dad. Jason kinda flaunted the ring to a few of his friends while my dad was around nearby, so he knew. And he called me...well...to tell me that why couldn't I be like Danielle, not as loud, not as... Well—"

I hugged her. "You know, he just gave you his blessing for you to go further on your studies, but that doesn't mean he's in love with the idea. People don't have a complete change of heart over something they strongly feel about. Give him time."

"Thank you." She sighed climbed on top of me and said, "Now be quiet"—She gave me a soul-searching kiss and pressed her body against mine before lying on top of me. We hadn't gotten dressed, so the fabulous sensation of her nude physique against my skin was great, and this time I just hoped to hell she didn't slap me on a whim—"while I fuck you."

I would've loved that. I would've let myself be loved, but there was something that didn't sound right. "Angelica, you don't have to do this."

Her smile, sultry as it had been, faltered.

"I think we've covered the fact that you're a really hot woman," I continued, "but if you're not in the mood, don't. Don't feel like you have to compensate for yesterday, or anything like that. We're f-buddies, and there's no doubt that we've fucked, and well, so don't feel like you owe it to me. Friends with benefits also includes the 'friends' part. C'mere."

More than letting her move close to me, I took her in my arms, pulled her to me, and let myself enjoy her naked body against mine. Of course I wanted to have sex with her. She probably didn't have an idea how horny I was, but there was no way I was going to get laid out of a feeling of obligation, even less reluctance.

After an indeterminate amount of time, she stood up and started picking up her clothes. I let her go, for our relationship could only work that way, and we both knew it.

"Talk to Danielle," she said, her eyes flashing with an enigma behind them. I didn't say a thing, just let her go. My friend smiled at me in a relaxed way, blew me a kiss, and closed the door behind her, leaving me to shower before starting my day.

***

The week went by uneventfully and I felt angry, frustrated, and I knew only one of the reasons. Danielle's engagement bothered the fuck out of me, which was the only certainty since I didn't know why it bothered me. It wasn't as if she and I had any kind of relationship that meant something. It wasn't as if I had done anything to prevent the engagement from happening. Sure, I was infatuated with my neighbor, and maybe I should've been only frustrated at not being able to have her, but why feel anger?

Encounters between Danielle and me had been null. Angelica had texted me, letting me know about her progress with the MBA, but no sex offers. I was sure I didn't want to resort to Clarissa; I had learned my lesson about teenagers. My workout sessions had become stress-relief that didn't fully work as such, and I had it in my mind by Friday that I was going to go out, find a random girl, and fuck her senseless until she begged for mercy. Twice.

My hormones were screaming at me. I had gotten used to frequent sex, and the withdrawal was merciless. Mood swings weren't uncommon, and I quickly became angered... Sex can be addicting too. The signs are there if you know where to look for them. Stopping myself from going out to fuck a random girl, I made a call to a clinic and scheduled an appointment to be checked for STDs.

Told to wait for the results to be mailed, I was back at my apartment and already changing into an outfit that I deemed would make me look tempting, even if I wasn't planning to get laid, when the doorbell rang. There was only one person that would do that since I still didn't get any visitors that didn't announce themselves by phone beforehand. I went for the door and tried to remain as neutral as possible. It would've been hypocrisy to pretend I was happy for her, but she deserved a good reaction out of her life-changing event. I steeled myself and opened the door.

"Hey, neighbor," I said, then thoughtfully looked at her. Danielle wasn't all jumpy and happy, or glowing. I remembered how I dared Murphy to do something and thought that maybe he had thought that drama was the thing for this week. She asked a mute question with her expression and I nodded, allowing her to come in and sit on the couch. My curvy neighbor did so, and I couldn't help admiring her sway and body as she sat down. I forced myself to carefully avoid any contact and sat on the other end of the piece of furniture that suddenly seemed too small. She looked thoughtfully at me, and was about to say something ,when she stopped herself and then thought about it before raising her hand and showing me four fingers.

"Shoot." I knew this question was either the reason why she came or some kind of stalling game for what she actually wanted to say, so I either expected a really hard question or some random and simple inquiry.

"Days ago, you and Angelica..."—Danielle didn't know how to say it—"She was confused; she said she so threw herself at you and then tried to stop you. Unlike most guys who would've tried to convince her of going on or whatever, she said you stopped right away, like you were afraid or something."

I stopped dead, not wanting to breathe. She was looking at me, studying my reaction, but allowing me to continue. The way Danielle's eyebrows lifted made me want to do things that would get us into so much trouble. I didn't want to answer, and yet, I had given her my word. There were no options for someone like me who rarely gave his word because it meant honoring it. Instead of randomly muttering away, I ordered my thoughts. I didn't want to say anything more than what was necessary nor did I want to babble. Weakness wasn't an option for this kind of crap. I inhaled.

"I don't have a lot of friends. I don't trust people. After what Mike did to my brother, humanity earned a strike with me. The next strike came from another friend I later made"—my heart began thumping faster, and not in a good way—"Long story short, I was seeing this girl, and in a rough patch, he invited me over for drinks."




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 05



Danielle's expression revealed that she suspected that something similar to my brother's experience had happened. I simply continued.

"I don't drink much, but he had invited a bunch of people I knew, so it would've been rude to say no, so I went, and it wasn't away from my apartment. I drank sparkling water. After a lot of pressure—just to shut them up—I did drink something with alcohol.

"As the night went by, I felt weird, you know. I've been drunk once or twice before, but never had I felt anything like that. It was strange. My body felt heavy and my mind felt split in two. There was this part of me that went on full alert, saying that there was something very, very wrong with the sensations I was feeling. The other part of me was all chilled, just telling myself to relax, that everything was ok, that nothing mattered much.

"We went back to my apartment, taking the 'party' there since I wasn't feeling good. Eventually, I told them to make themselves at home, that I was going to sleep, and I did. I went to bed feeling unreal sleepiness. I only slept for a little while before having this awesome dream of my girlfriend doing all these sexy things to me, and then I woke up. I hadn't locked my bedroom door."

Danielle's eyes went wide. She knew where this could end up, and I muttered with some evident anger in my voice, "Don't you dare feel sorry for me." My neighbor flinched when she heard my tone, but she just looked at me. I continued.

"One of the guys, the one who organized the whole thing, was there sucking me off. When I opened my eyes a bit more, I realized he was straddling me, to get me to fuck him. My mind was still split between the 'meh, don't give a damn, just don't care about the world' part and the rational one, buried by drugs. I asked him to stop. Instead of ordering him, it came out all polite: He told me to relax and lean back, that I would enjoy it. Part of me said, 'yeah, whatever, just go back to sleep,' the other one was now in full panic. You see, there is no drug to make you gay or straight, so I knew full well what was happening, and I could barely bring myself to care. But I did care.

"I asked him again. He was still going down on me, and I told him that if he didn't stop, I'd punch him. He didn't, so I pushed him away. He climbed the bed and tried to get me inside of him. I fought back, but I was very clumsy, he kept on trying to convince me while grabbing me and trying to do it. Somehow I managed to grab him by the neck and punched him. I don't know how many times since I didn't care. I told him to just go away and let me sleep. He ran away. My biggest concern was cleaning the blood that had fallen on the sheets and floor since I had hit him over and over. I didn't even notice, but it had been bad. I had hit him enough times to break his nose, and I continued punching him over and over after that since I didn't particularly care about being rape. I didn't particularly care enough to stop in time.

"When the next day came, it fully hit me. I told myself over and over that nothing had happened, you know? Turns out, I had hit him so hard that he had crawled out of my apartment and dialed 911 before falling unconscious. I don't know how many medical things he needed, nor do I care, although it's comforting to know he needed medical attention. I tried to convince myself that since he hadn't finished what he started, that it wasn't that bad, but it didn't work. I knew. I didn't sleep for nights. I didn't feel safe in my own apartment. I had to move out. I'm the guy that laughs at rape jokes because if I get affected, I will be the victim forever. It might not be the right thing for everyone, but it works for me. The thing that happened is that cheating or not, virgin or not, drunk or not, I didn't care as long as it was willing, I would never ever try to do something the girl doesn't want. So when Angelica pushed me back, I felt like a monster. Because I still dream of it every now and then. Nobody deserves that."

By the time my monologue was done, I was mad at Danielle. She pitied me, and I couldn't stand that.

"I said no," she limply muttered.

"Uh...sorry?"

"Jason asked me to marry him. I said no."

My treacherous mood lifted immediately, but I kept it corked. "What?"

"I said I couldn't do it."

Stupidly, as if I wanted her to change her mind, I asked, "Why?"

"We got in an argument again during dinner. His answer was to propose in the middle of the restaurant, to the applauses of everyone for him to bask in," she said sadly, and I winced. He proposed to amend an argument?

"But if you said no—"

"I said yes because it was in public. I wasn't about to humiliate him, but when we got out of the restaurant, I had to tell him that getting married wasn't about to patch up our relationship. That we had been seeing each other more out of being used to it rather than because we wanted to. Marriage isn't a problem solver. It's a good relationship booster...and he lost it. He called me names. Then he said that his friends were right, that I should be grateful of getting a marriage offer by someone like him—"

"What?"

"He apologized later, but... He said he needs to think, that we need some time apart, and he's going to try to see if we're doing this or not."

I hugged her because she was crying softly. This open-heart conversation had sparked some chaos inside of me, yet, I was thinking fast. I didn't know if that meant that Danielle and Jason were together or not, but what a masterful screw-up he had done. Unless...

"Danielle. I don't want you to hate me for this, but is there anyone really interested in Jason, or otherwise? Is this 'time' thing convenient for him to not be tied down for something else to happen?"

"I don't know?" Her tone definitely sounded like a question, and the tears in her eyes weren't stopping. "I think it could. After he said it wasn't my fault that I couldn't even seduce you, I—"

I grabbed her by the shoulders and Danielle got to hear my dangerous tone for the first time ever, low and calculating. "He said what? Danielle, that is unacceptable. You can't take shit like this from anyone. Even less from the guy who wants to marry you. I'm sorry, but it's the truth."

"I can't help feeling unwanted when he says things like that," she sniffled.

There was no good argument against that. The people that can hurt you are the ones whose opinion you care about, so getting this kind of treatment would of course leave some mark. An idea popped up in my mind and my rational brain kicked in right after that. No, Dante, stop that, don't you dare, fucker, don't you dare.

"Stop me whenever you feel like it," I told her, and my face inched closer to hers. Don't, just don't, Dante. Don't.

My eyelids slowly closed, and I brushed my lips against hers. The touch sent my body chemistry into an upward spiral. Danielle was unmoving, so I pressed harder and kissed her gently, pouring all of my frustration, my forbidden desire, and whatever the hell I felt for her into it. For a wonderful second, the world stopped existing. Then I noticed that Danielle was still not responding, and I opened my eyes. For a fraction of a second, she kissed me back and something inside of me just ignited. I deepened the kiss hungrily and she whimpered for me, but moisture touched my cheek and I pulled back. My pretty neighbor was almost trembling, a maelstrom of emotions taking her over. Another tear rolled down her cheek. I felt confused.

"He's wrong. You could seduce me if you wanted to. Hell, even if you didn't want to, you could simply ask me to—"

"Stop."

She should've slapped me. It would've hurt less. Danielle trembled but steeled herself in whatever decision she made, turned around, and carefully closed the door behind her. I found myself in the need of a body-breaking workout that would wipe all rational thought out of my mind.

And work out I did. The plan to fuck a random girl was the furthest thing from my mind. I tried so many different, intense exercises that I found myself stopping for breath, but I gave myself the minimum rest possible, pushing my body to the limit. I got "there" when I felt about to pass out from the exertion and the Zen moment where you're not thinking and yet it's all clear because you don't have to ponder about details since things make sense. I took an ice-cold shower and headed for the store to buy something to restore my energy and whatever crap could get my thoughts away from my stupidity. Of all the possible seduction scenarios, being an idiot was never an option, and yet, that's the one I had apparently chosen. My phone rang.

"Hun, I gotta talk to you. Something happened." Pan was slightly worried, at least his tone seemed that way, but since Pan was the king of lack of expression, that meant something was definitely not right. Awesome. My neighbor gets proposed to, rejects it, and I fuck up. Then my friend is troubled. What else can happen now?

"Sure thing. Wanna meet up today?"

"Yes. Right now? I'll just skip the workout." Shit, Pan not working out?

"You tell me when and where."

"Nine, at the Propeller," he said, mentioning the bar where my brother's ex-band played when he used to live in the city. 

"See you there, hun."

At seven thirty, I was nearing the bar. Not only did he want a familiar space, he was skipping a workout to talk to me. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. At five to nine, I was on a stool checking out the patrons, the first band of the night tuning their equipment to start playing on short notice. Four girls were checking me out. Apparently, they were trying to get one of their friends to muster up the courage to talk to me, but then Pan came in wearing something typical for him, random clothing that covered up his frame that would've been the envy of every guy there, had it been displayed. His curly hair bounced as he sharply looked around until he found me. He approached with no expression on his face. The foursome eyeing me seemed to be debating whether he was my partner or a friend judging by their appraising glances. A waiter came over and asked for our orders.

"Two beers and some onion rings," Pan muttered.

"Corona, Heineken, Budwe—"

"Beers. And onion rings."

"Pan, you're creeping me out. Not working out, drinking beer, and asking for onion rings?"

He just stared at me and let some time go by. I knew better than to hurry him. As usual, the beers were uncapped right before us. Pan took the bottle cap and started to play with it, moving it slowly, his stare lost deep within its details. For those who aren't familiar with men talking about feelings, we don't do so over a cup of coffee and looking into each other's eyes. There has to be a distraction: videogame, food—a rock band about to play—or something, so we can bravely pretend we're not talking about feelings.

"I think I cheated on Maria."

"Oh."

"Does it count as cheating if I didn't know it was her?"

"I... Well, I don't know what to say—"

"If there's an authority on this, it's you," Pan said, not looking at me nor meaning offense. "Galahad went full man-slut after Yuliya broke him. You're the one with the moral compass here."

Not anymore. "Hun, cheating isn't a light bulb that either's on or off. There's factors that have to be taken into account. Did you do it willingly?"

"Yes. Maybe? I don't know."

"Were you sober?"

"Yes."

"Uh, well, then how come you didn't know it was her?"

"It was dark. I mean, long story short, I was supposed to see Maria in this place, but the girl in there wasn't her. I didn't look at her. I didn't ask, I— I thought it was Maria until I went back out. Maria was just getting to the place we were supposed to meet."

"Shit. Do you think the other girl set you up?"

"I don't know. And I think I should tell Maria. She deserves to know. She's special to me," he admitted. In Pan speech, 'special' meant something akin to 'I care a whole fucking lot.' The awkward silence was thankfully drowned out by a "Karma Police" cover that was nothing short of terrible; it was as if the band tried to convince Radiohead to play it again in a concert to set things right. Eventually, I continued the conversation, toying with an onion ring.

"Wow. This isn't something normal. Pan, you could lose her if you don't handle this correctly, so I'm not saying that you should lie. I'm saying that you should think very carefully how you're going to present this. Coming out clear is the best option. Otherwise, it's going to be seen as malicious, if it comes to light. I might know about cheating, but asking me about morals isn't the best thing you can do."

"That's why I do it."

"Then say it. Whoever she was, she was the one setting you up."

"It's Susan."

"Whoa. The Susan Ralph wants to have sex with?"

"The same."

"I thought you guys were friends and... Well."

"Yes. Ralph, Maria, Susan, and I have been only getting along for a little while now, so I don't know how or why."

"If you're serious, Maria deserves to know."

"Fuck."

"I'm not saying it's going to be easy. I'd have my doubts too, and it's a good sign. After all, you do care about what she thinks."

"This is so fucked up."

"You got that right, hun."

The magic of the Unlikely Gentlemen communication. We knew the conversation was over and stood up, hugged each other, and left a few bills, leaving both the beers and the onion rings without being even partially consumed. We weren't about to increase our intake of calories if we weren't going to burn them properly. He left first, then I walked out looking straight into the group of girls. They had thought about it too much. They lost their chance.

***

Saturday was a day for me to think long and hard. I wondered at random stuff during the morning, I fathomed about relationships as I worked out, I reminisced about my situation as it became later, and I shopped around for healthy snacks. Returning to my apartment, I hummed absently to myself and I reached my door.

**"Floating in the darkness..." the voice oozed out of the other apartment, with a flowing piano melody right on cue. My neighbor was playing a song she had told me about, one I should learn for harp. And I did, after her comment. TVXQ's Bolero.

To this day, I don't know if she did it because somewhere deep inside she realized what she was doing. The song called to me, and I went inside my apartment, dropping whatever random crap I was carrying from the store. I took my harp and checked that it was in tune with the song since it had a few flat notes. Only a minor adjustment was necessary.

I had friends that felt music in a way that surpassed the average person. Gabriel Verdin came to mind. Whoever plays an instrument will know the intensity and the otherworldly mental state of playing a song you like and with which you feel connected.

Impatiently, I stood outside her door to join her on a specific mark, waiting for the whole "fly away, fly away" part of the song to end. I'd do my attempt right after that, when it all seems to stop, only for the voices to start overlapping each other. I steadied my harp with the thali on my shoulder. The section about to start needed to be sung by at least two people for full effect, and the lyrics felt too right. The tone with which she had been singing was longing. She was singing it to herself, I could tell. An encouraging song, sad, but with hope. After she sang "fly forever, yeah," the notes came to a stop, and her voice rose.

"...and forever." It was a lament, but she held the note, barely playing the few chords needed.

"I will continue to shine on you," I answered through the door, not striking a single string on Aoide—my harp.

There was a sudden silence and my heart almost sank. For nothing, since the pause was more of a hesitation, and less than half a second, she continued.

"I'll be watching over you protectively..." The notes from her piano began to feel stronger. The world started to fade away, and it became a blurry experience where only our feelings and music mattered. I couldn't see her, yet she was closer to me than anyone had ever been.

"For that beloved future that should be..." My voice mingled with hers, and this time the tempo didn't fail. I hadn't noticed that I was in a state of strange arousal as if I was calling to her in a way that defied the typical communication.

"Wherever you go..." Her playing was more decisive, her performance filling voids that I didn't know existed within me.

"I will continue to hope..." I sang to her. For her. She sang the lyrics for herself, yet, her voice was directed to me. She was singing to me and with me. My hands were waiting for my cue.

"And I will protect you..." Danielle's tone went to the high note, and I joined on the simultaneous lower one, striking the harp right before the ending chorus was sung by her. "Within the passion, the radiance and misery, let the sparkling bolero be heard; for you should know you're not alone in this, keep on flying for as long as you live."

I played some chords and some parts of the melody, and she did the same. We had never practiced the song together, which meant we sometimes played the exact same note. For some others, I was her background instrument. I sang the base of the chorus while she went on with the ad-libs over me.

The final verse came from her. "The place where you belong is right here". Then it was all instrumental, and we played in silent intensity for a moment that stepped away from the rules of time.

Suddenly, the song was over.

My existence was still foggy when the door opened. I believe someone was clapping to our performance. I hate the fact that I can't remember everything perfectly; it was as if I were falling in and out of conscience every now and then. We were staring at each other, breathing heavily, and we didn't need words. The world went dark.

And when it came back, I was kissing her furiously, but not roughly, with intensity. The world faded out again.

When it faded back in, her hands were all over me, and I wasn't wearing a shirt. Her skin felt warm, soft, and silky, her scent woven with the rest of the fragrance she had enveloping me. Danielle's mouth traveled down to my neck, just like we had experienced before. Her lips brushed against my collarbone, and I vaguely remember panting before the world blacked out again.

We were in another room, her hands were flanking my face, pulling me towards her. Somehow, we were down to our underwear. Her dark eyes looked straight into mine when I unsnapped the bra and looked at her again, taking a single step back to admire her. She was gorgeous beyond the words I was ever taught while learning English. She extended her hand towards me in a beckoning call that got her answer immediately, our lips transmitting between themselves what our voices wouldn't say. She whispered something in my ear and the sensations were overwhelming again.

When I came back to my senses, she was below me, her mouth slightly ajar, with the look of anticipation that comes right before bodies are joined in the most intimate way. Her hand was wrapping my hardness and guiding it towards her entrance.

The head of my cock pressed against her moist lips and they needily gave way. Her breath was stolen as I pressed harder and harder, her body accepting more of my flesh inside. We hadn't looked away from each other's eyes. Her mouth opened slightly wider as inch after inch of me disappeared inside her, the forbidden feeling of flesh against flesh devouring us, my eyes claiming her as much as I was taking her physically. Everything but her became nonexistent. Danielle's warm, defenseless wetness enveloped me hungrily, and I still remember every fraction of an inch of her innermost secrets.




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 05



Strangely, as I fed her body more of my unclad cock, the sensation of filling her also made me feel complete. There were abstract things in me that had been waiting too long for the moment in which I made the sensuous, curvy woman mine. Every centimeter of me that she took in was a victory, not only for my overloaded senses, but also for something else I couldn't put my finger on. With infinite patience, I continued the progress into her.

I could feel every tiny detail of her as I went in deep. I was certain she could feel my exact shape; even the vein on top of my length had to be felt by her as my unprotected cock bottomed out. When my pelvis met hers, her head fell back ,and she let out a sound of satisfaction, breathy and uncontrolled.

Her legs wrapped around my waist and she tried to meld with me. I reveled in the feeling of her skin against mine. It was as tender, hot, and intense as I had always thought when I jacked off thinking of her. Almost not wanting to, I pulled back, and my body screamed for hers, so I plunged in again, rewarding myself with the greatest pleasure I had ever felt, her defenseless pussy screaming for more. She arched her back underneath me, pressing her soft, marvelous breasts against my chest.

The motion began almost by itself. I pumped in and out of her, the head of my bare-skinned cock examining her pussy, sending too many pleasure signals. Her legs went back to the bed, her feet supporting her as she started moving her hips against mine. Danielle's hands found their way to my ass, and she grabbed it possessively, pulling me inside of her again, and I grunted in her ear.

I was feeling so much pleasure because I was finally fucking the woman of my fantasies and dreams. But also, I—until then—had failed to notice I was doing so bareback. I was far away from any thought that didn't involve making her mine, trying to get an orgasm from her and mark her as mine, to consume her and become one with the gorgeous woman moaning softly for me.

Her pussy suddenly clenched down on me when she altered her position, and she let out a louder moan, her fingers trying to find support on my back. I felt her body take me in with more need, the texture of her exposed skin driving me onward. It wasn't only that she was taking my cock unprotected. It was how her arms felt wrapped around me, how the skin in her abdomen tickled mine when I pushed all of myself inside. Every inch of my body demanded that I touched, caressed, and felt her as completely as possible.

I bit Danielle softly along her jawbone and she whimpered; my teeth kept on going and her ear became my next victim. She shuddered with sinful ecstasy and held on to me even tighter. I finally went lower and bit the part where the shoulder and neck become one. Her short, but loud, scream let me know I was hitting all the right places. It was as if I knew exactly what she wanted. And I was going to give it all to her. Following my hunches, one of my arms went underneath her to support my weight. The other didn't pinch her nipple, but rather rubbed and pressed against it. It worked. She let out another short scream like I had never heard her do before, her hot womanly essence contracting harder, demanding my semen.

No words were needed. It was as if every inch of her brought me to life and I wanted as much contact with her flesh as possible. Our prohibited pleasure mounted with each inch of me going inside of her, with every back thrust and meeting of our bodies. Wherever her hands went, my senses went on fire. Where she kissed, I could feel bliss blooming and taking over my mind. Her unprotected pussy sucked me harder than before and I knew it was close.

This isn't just fucking. It was way beyond that. We weren't making love either. It was as if our essences were connected to each other and the only way to make it tangible was with our bodies. It couldn't last long; it didn't need to.

She urged me on, but I can't remember the words. Maybe there were no words. Looking deep into my eyes, she placed her open palm on my chest as I rode her, not pushing me back, simply feeling my heartbeat, and that simple gesture triggered the beginning of the end.

Our bodies were sweating as we coupled, my bare cock probing her depths faster than before. I bent over and started whispering in her ear. I can't remember what was said, but it didn't feel dirty or corny. Whatever I said, it was all she was waiting for. I felt close to blacking out again, but I forced myself to stay awake. It was finally happening, and I had to be there when my body produced an orgasm out of the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, touched, or dreamt of.

I knew I was close, too, and she sensed it. Danielle's body tensed, her eyes closed, her arms and legs wrapped around me, and she stopped breathing, her pussy milking me hard. It was too much to see her do that, to feel her do it down to the most minuscule detail, our skin having no separation between us, and knowing I had caused it. The sensations were overpowering, and I felt my semen rushing out like a high-pressure hose suddenly being activated. The fire that started in my core spread towards the rest of my body and it reached out for the heat that she emanated.

My seed felt creamier than before as it made its way outside of me. It jetted out and the first rope went deep inside of her. She suddenly gasped and opened her eyes, her orgasm taking a new high. Her inner walls seemed to have been waiting for it as she contracted around me even tighter, the warm, moist sensation of her skin demanding more out of me. Once or twice, her body twitched with the blast of sensations, but I held her close to me while we survived the onslaught of pleasure. The second part of the white-hot stream started flooding her, and she held on to me for dear life as I coated her insides with my essence. She surrendered fully to me. I grunted in a low note as I felt my cock expanding and planting more sperm inside of her.

Danielle was now mine. I felt how it flowed in spurts, both of us locked in an intimate embrace as our sensations reached the peak when our fluids mingled. She hadn't moved, looking deep into my eyes as I claimed her completely, me, unmoving as I finished emptying myself into her. And I collapsed on top of the goddess—my goddess.

I wrapped my arms around her softly, kissing her tenderly. I felt complete. She kissed back and hummed only for me, enjoying the sensation of ultimate completion. We were synchronized in ways nobody would ever understand, for better or for worse.

As it turned out, it was for worse. Reality slapped both of us in the face at the same time. Her eyes widened. My mouth fell in shock. I jumped back and stared at her, horrified at what I had done. But there was no denying it. Her cheeks were rosy, her hair was wild, the room smelled like the most devastatingly wonderful sex. With all that, she still looked worthy of adoration, and yet, between her legs, the white evidence of our forbidden union seeped outside slowly. She clutched at her breast. And I knew why.

It shouldn't have been so good. It shouldn't have felt that right.

***

Regarding non-consensual sex: It is actually alarming to me that there are so many stories in this site under that category. While there's nothing wrong with trying to convince someone who has a few doubts between having sex or not, rape is unacceptable in any case. I find it even worse when our culture tries to make exceptions if the rapist is someone of importance. In this case, it explains a lot of Dante's attitudes towards life and friendship, he was built that way. If writing or reading those stories is what prevents others from doing it in real life, by all means, go ahead. I feel it's necessary for me to specify, however, that I didn't write that scene with any intent of arousal, nor supporting rape. 



An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 06



I'd like to thank LadyVer for sticking with my writing, editing all the stories in this series.

Danielle avoided me, which made me feel too many things at once.

I needed to apologize, but living next door to each other wasn't helpful. Since she went out of her way to not talk to me, I could only see her from my window. Any time I'd go out to talk to her, she'd immediately disappear, or simply ignore me. Childish. But it did hurt.

There were other things I felt and didn't understand, and it wasn't that I was lying to myself; it was that I truly didn't understand my reactions, or hers. For a guy who thinks of himself as at least mildly smart, I wasn't sure what to do.

I had been told it'd be a week. That didn't make the wait any shorter. Daily, I went over to check the mailbox on the first floor because there was only one possibility of getting anything other than "you're eligible for a new credit card" in the mail. Day after day, and still nothing. Finally, a small, simple envelope arrived. Since I did everything electronically and had all bills e-mailed to me, I knew for sure what the envelope contained.

I skipped all the medical jargon that meant zilch to me and went straight for the results.

I sighed with relief about the lack of STDs. I had thought I'd never have to go through that since my sex life before all the Danielle-friend-circle thing was pretty much average for a young single guy. I had flings, but not a long series of one-night stands, which meant that if Danielle were clean, I had no sickness to fear, and neither did she.

I just hoped she was on the pill. The moment I thought that, I had a flashback to the sensation of her pussy squeezing my bare cock and I shuddered with the remembered pleasure. It was wrong. And of course, that meant it was hotter. Dante, you have no shame.

After leaving the papers in my drawer, I felt like going out again to breathe some air.

First time I had ever taken such a test. The all-clean results made me feel like I used to when getting a passing grade on a difficult subject in college, not knowing beforehand if I had done well enough on the exam. I felt liberated from a weight I hadn't realized I'd been carrying.

Soon, I once again immersed myself in thoughts of Danielle.

It had been a while ago and only once, but I relived it without even trying. It had been something way beyond sex. I still was mystified by the connection we shared, as though our beings synchronized every time we touched. I didn't need to think hard to understand her. Which meant I also knew that if Danielle and I could have any future together beyond simply fucking, it wasn't going to be easy. She and I were—

"Earth to Dante, over."

"Angelica, what's up?"

"Nothing compared to what's happened to you, I see." She smiled, and I knew she knew.

"Did she tell you?"

"No, but I can see it. You took your damn time, you know?"

It started to make sense.

Angelica had been pushing Danielle and me together for a while. It had been subtle, going beyond the short comments that she made when she spoke to me, including how she had never stopped whatever happened between Danielle and me when we shared those tense moments—unlike Trish. I didn't ask her how she knew, but rather, the question that I actually wanted the answer to. If she took matters into her own hands to make it happen, that question was, "why?"

"Because you've been drooling over her all this time. Well, you don't drool, but I've gotten to be able to read your moods," Angelica admitted. I was OK with her knowing how to discern my expressions. "Also, because we can't."

True enough. She was referring to the fact that we didn't work as a couple. Couldn't work. I sensed she wasn't done talking, however, so I let her continue.

"And because Danielle is more complex than you'd think. She has weird needs—even more so from a man. If you aren't good at anticipating female ways of acting... but you can manage. You're smart enough and intense enough." Then she winked. "It does help that she finds you hard to resist."

Angelica was starting to sound like a fortune cookie, making allusions and not being clear about them, but I was learning more than I had been able to until then. Danielle, like me, didn't always freely give out personal information. For some reason, I didn't normally feel like asking, but rather, waiting until she offered it.

"She thinks she's ready and she's not. She needs time, but she needs you there. Don't jump to conclusions, and don't go too crazy with what's going to happen, but don't back off too much either. Enough space and time for both of you will work well in the end. Just don't let her cling on you quickly."

I mimicked shaking a Magic 8-Ball. "It isn't clear."

"You'll live." Angelica winked at me again and walked away.

I noticed then that we were in the park.

I'd been walking to the store on my daily trip. The spot where we were was halfway through the walk. Which meant that the exotic girl had actually gone out of her way to meet with me and tell me all the obfuscated truths. So, an absolutely inexpressive, unpredictable young man and woman who had been taught that a strong personality was wrong...

Apparently, my friends had a knack for being unusual.

***

The good news behind the test was refreshing, but that didn't stop me from noticing that Danielle dropped off the radar. Although her car was parked in her spot every day, my neighbor was not to be seen. I didn't hear her even through the thin wall between our apartments; not even faint piano notes were heard.

What was worse, this thing for my neighbor wasn't a subtle desire. Each day I felt more and more like a junkie in need of a fix. Was Danielle actually spying on me before leaving or arriving at her apartment? It seemed like a possibility after so long without even a glimpse of her.

Friday came along.

I was given less work than usual, so anything that came my way was quickly taken care of. I hadn't gotten any new ideas from Hernán, just more simple tasks like double-checking that the company logo and image guidelines on some posters had been followed properly.

As I checked the slogan below the logo, I thought about my neighbor. It was infuriating being obsessed like a teen with a crush while trying to work. It was too much for me. After that, it was just a matter of emailing back and forth with the people in charge of printing as my mind raced with thoughts that weren't work-related.

Three o'clock. I handed everything in and hinted at my leaving early unless there were other plans. Hernán backed me up, as always, saying I'd done everything he'd needed for the day. He had been behaving more and more like a friend, but he was nervous.

And then it happened. As I was about to leave, Hernán approached me.

"Dante... you've been kept out of the loop."

"How is that?"

"You're acting too laid back, and I haven't seen you search for a job. Remember, I told you?" Hernán paused.

A void appeared in my stomach, growing bigger with every passing second. He had already made a hushed comment about his checking out other jobs, suggesting that I do the same.

Hernán was shy though. I thought he had been fed up with the job and was looking to change. I didn't actually expect a hidden warning to be in his comments. Processing the information, I stared at my co-worker as he continued in a low volume.

"I'm guessing you haven't heard the news. There's a company that is planning to invest heavily in this one, and although they have a lot of shared departments, they only mentioned that their marketing area was big enough to handle both companies. It's strange. Just before the offer happened, this person came over asking for you, so I had thought you'd be safe. Apparently, we both might lose our jobs."

I hadn't heard. I then understood the downside of keeping yourself out of any friendly contact at work, of keeping one's professional life strictly job-related.

Fuck.

There was only one person I could think of that could be behind this. Apparently, calling a grown woman names was enough to risk a job. The vindictive little Sarah, whom I had offended a few weeks back, was probably behind this. I doubted she could alter a whole company just to get back at me for a petty comment. It would be too far-fetched and childish, a complete over-reaction.

That being said, I didn't know what kind of money she had; neither did I know her personality. So this could be an elaborate bluff or a serious act of spite taken to the extreme.

It was probably the last straw. A few minutes later, I was checking for jobs online and had sent out a few e-mails with my résumé.

To overload my brain, I had unwittingly decided to hunt Danielle down. I was thinking about strategies on how to catch my hot and elusive neighbor when Galahad's text reached me.

"Bro! Flying over for the weekend, doing the Propeller thing."

My brother was the distraction I needed from everything. It had been days since I had seen Danielle and work had just taken a turn for the worse. This thing with my brother would be good. Every now and then his ex-band would get together and play. They were good, maybe not super-star good, but pretty damn good, enough to have been offered more than once to sign up with a major label. Unfortunately, it had never worked; some members thought it was too risky to leave a steady job to pursue an elusive dream. So the Propeller, the bar that had already seen me a few times this last month, would be full on the weekend since the band still had some following.

I texted Danielle.

"Want to go to a rock show? My treat." It was surprising to me that she answered. I was expecting the same treatment from her.

"Is it ok if I bring friends?"

I assumed she didn't trust herself around me just yet. I answered right away, maybe even too quickly, showing how desperate I was. Pathetic. "I'll bring mine, too."

"I'm so there."

Of course, I went hard. Why not? Receive a text, get aroused. The kind of thing that happens when it comes to Danielle.

***

The Propeller was more crowded than I had expected. Overshadowed had quite the following for a band that was only performing at infrequent, random times.

That particular night, there were four bands in total, but many were there for Galahad's. Even I knew a few of the people there. Maybe not by name, but I had seen them a few times already. My friends Pan, Maria, Alice, and Ralph were with me. We snatched a pair of adjacent tables since we were expecting some crowding.

Talking lightly, although it was mostly Ralph and Alice doing the actual speaking, the minutes went by.

I chastised myself when, for the fifth time, I silently asked the universe if Danielle would show up. I knew that my anxiousness didn't show externally. There were only the subtle signs that people that had known me for a long time could read.

The rock bar still had legal capacity for more people, and the owners were about to push its limits since the place was starting to fill beyond the usual crowd. I assumed that one of the bands was a fairly new and popular one since I didn't recognize the name.

Finally, near the corner, I saw Clarissa, Angelica, Janet, and Danielle looking for us.

My hot neighbor wore some kind of skirt that wasn't entirely formal, but not too laid back, which accentuated her hips marvelously. She was also wearing some kind of skin-colored stockings or maybe pantyhose that made her legs look like a ballerina's. A t-shirt that had some cutesy skulls didn't give her the whole appearance of being a rocker. Maybe it was a bit too girly, but it worked for her. The rest of her friends took on a more serious tone when dressing up to be in tune with the surroundings.

"So you banged all of them?"

"Ralph, come on—"

"I mean, your record is looking good. Dibs on anyone?"

"Ralph," I said again. But I saw that my friend was serious. "Actually, just leave the neighbor alone."

"Can I bang Rihanna? Or are you hogging them all for yourself?"

"Her name is Angelica, and you can try, but I think it's not gonna work. I don't think she looks like Rihanna, for that matter, but—whatever."

Ralph continued evaluating his possibilities aloud, making comments that were sometimes not too respectful. Pan, Maria, and Alice looked at the exchange, already used to such inappropriate banter from him since Ralph was able to pull it off without looking like an ass. He had that touch; he could say something utterly insulting, but his smile and ways won you over.

I waved to the girls.

They came over, making their way through the crowd.

Instantly, Ralph was all over Angelica, and while the guy looked like an underwear model, he needed to be a bit sharper to win over the exotic woman. He was shot down, hard. Numerous times. For all his charisma, it was evident he wasn't utterly bright, and I knew Angelica's type by then. Also, the woman looked out of place. She constantly made it evident with her expression.

Only after a while did Ralph notice that Clarissa, the Asian girl next to him, was looking at him, starry-eyed. His predatory grin grew wider.

Danielle made small talk for a while and came closer to me when Lorelai and Hunter arrived, giving them enough space. It was more contact than I could account for in the previous days, but I wanted more out of her. Way more.

A tattooed arm closed around my neck and I stayed immobile, rolling my eyes and sighing, maybe too much like the stereotypical older brother.

"Glad you could make it, Devil," my brother's baritone voice greeted me.

"Devil?" Danielle looked suitably afraid.

"Galahad here tries to give me nicknames, but they don't stick. I think this one is from a video game."

"Devil May Cry!"

"That one."

Danielle smirked with what I think was recognition. Since I don't play video games, I don't know if she got the reference or saw how I could be related to Devil May Cry.

My brother chatted with us for a while. Although he didn't look particularly interested in any of our female friends, he was a total man slut. I knew his style. He'd do the rock star thing and then hunt the girl down, but he'd study the whole place before focusing his attempts on anyone.

The first band came up on stage and started playing. They were a punk-oriented quartet with a violin who I guess wanted to be another Yellowcard. Not bad, but nothing awe-inspiring.

That, however, wasn't my priority. I didn't sit idle.

Knowing the table blocked the view—and Danielle was next to me—I placed my hand on her knee. Cute in her conservative reaction, my neighbor sat up, stiff. I smirked, still caressing her knee. From the sly look that Galahad gave me, he knew I was trying something.

For as long as the band played—and they did play 'Firewater,' covering Yellowcard—I was busy inching higher on Danielle's leg.

When I reached a spot around her mid-thigh, she stopped me. I backed down slightly but continued caressing her. She was talking with Pan and Maria. I nodded every now and then, making comments in Galahad, Janet, and Angelica's conversation while both Danielle and I pretended nothing was happening.

We were all letting Ralph and Clarissa figure out if they were into each other enough. Clarissa was easy to impress. I raised my eyebrow towards Ralph who subtly flexed his biceps for her every now and then, showing his huge physique for the tiny girl. It was working.

The second band came up and Galahad said he had to leave, that the band needed to warm-up before going up onstage and that he was taking too long.

The band currently onstage went for a mellower sound overall. I would've described it as an indie band that went for the typical acoustic, alternative sound, but with a hint of Bon Jovi in it. The Propeller was a rock bar; they didn't show any bands that didn't have some aggressiveness.

The conversation changed. Now we were all talking among ourselves as much as one can in a rock place, leaving only Ralph and Clarissa in their own private bubble. But I had more important matters to see to.

My hand inched up again, and little by little, I covered more ground.

Suddenly, my fingers felt a different texture, and I knew I had reached that spot right between her legs. Her pussy lips had only the flimsy material of the pantyhose separating us.

I groaned when I made the discovery—no panties!—and Danielle became flustered. She stopped my hand and pulled back slightly. Content with pressing my fingertips all around the area that I was given access to, I kept going, just a fraction of an inch away from her pussy lips. I pressed and caressed, enjoying her look of guilt and pleasure.

The second band's turn was over. There were murmurs of expectation all around the bar.

It was then I noticed that the conversation had ended, of course, in sex. Even Clarissa and Ralph were into it, and thank goodness it was a more mature talk, not a giggling, prepubescent approach towards it. Okay, there were giggles every now and then, but not the dorky, awkward ones that made you want to roll your eyes.

Delightfully tense looks were exchanged every now and then around the table. The electric charge of sexual tension was definitely in the air.

Out of the blue, the silence was total, so we turned to look at the stage.

Overshadowed was making its entrance. My brother had removed his shirt to show off his tattooed arms and body. Since he enjoyed parkour and everything similar to snowboarding, skateboarding, and surfing, there was no doubt he was in shape. Covered with old Russian-styled depictions of folk tales our parents used to read to us, you could spot Vasilisa the Beautiful and Emelya and the Pike, among others.

Sail, the guitarist, came on stage and the murmurs returned, low and tense. Ed, the bassist, and then Paul, the second guitarist, appeared next. Galahad looked around in triumph but didn't introduce the band. Neither did he ask how everybody was doing that night. He marked the tempo, and they started playing immediately.

Again, it was incredible to see them live. Galahad managed to sing and play drums, and Sail was the background vocals just when needed. My little brother was outdoing himself, and I felt proud. The music was more aggressive than the previous bands, but not overly so.

Danielle's resistance wavered, and I slid my hand to massage her pussy through the thin fabric. The intake of breath wasn't audible over the songs, but I saw it clearly. I touched her as much as I could, the magnetism between us still there. I was almost fingering Danielle in the middle of the bar, delighted in the whole naughty situation. My neighbor couldn't believe it. She was trying to act nonchalant, but the rush was evident.

I felt her getting wetter and wetter. She was probably whimpering as my hands worked feverishly right in front of our friends. I think she was about to come, when Overshadowed said they were about to end their show, that it was going to be their last song.

Danielle went still, terrified of being heard, but I didn't stop. My other finger poised itself against my lips. I silently indicated for her to be quiet, rubbing her through the fabric quickly and feeling her about to come again. My efforts became more frantic.

I leaned over to whisper into her ear. "Pretend to say something into my ear so nobody sees you come."

She immediately covered her face with my profile. I heard her moan softly, then whimper, then gasp, and I felt her tremble. I was hard as a rock, but I smirked, knowing I had done it. It probably looked as if whatever she was telling me had been amusing.

The crowd cheered for the band as they came down the stage.

I separated my hand from Danielle and discreetly brought it up to my face. I feigned thinking about something, with my hand near my mouth, but I let Danielle see I actually licked her juice off my lips.




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 06



"Oh, my God," I heard her whisper.

It had been years since I felt like a bad influence. Awesome.

My brother disappeared into the mass of people and eventually joined us with a pretty girl that looked roughly his age. The members of the other bands were chilling around the bar. A good amount of people remained, among them, a few loud and drunk patrons that were scaring others off.

The bar owner ordered a few lights turned off, but the hints weren't being taken. We were thinking of leaving when one of the waitresses came over to my brother and asked him to get rid of the people because they were about to close.

"Sure thing. Let me get the band and we'll do that for you." He even winked at her lasciviously, his brand new date notwithstanding. He disappeared for a minute and then came back with the rest of Overshadowed. The band hovered around our table, with a few fans making a bigger cloud around us.

"Devil, I just need a smoke." Galahad didn't smoke, but I knew what they were about to do. "Sólo un minuto."

I hoped there would be a new nickname for me soon. I had liked being called 'Ali' better. I looked at Danielle as if to say "may I leave you alone for a second?" She nodded. Evidently, she was trying to decipher Galahad's accent in Spanish. Good luck with that one. My brother had been living long enough in this country to make his Spanish accent a bit weird.

A few minutes later, we came back to the table and Overshadowed started playing again, with Versailles's Silent Knight. It was heavier than what they had played before and a few of the patrons looked more into it. A few seemed disturbed, which was the plan. But nobody was leaving.

"You asked for covers and we're going to do that!" Wearing a headband mic, Galahad waited for the cheers to die down while a few of the band's fans expectantly looked up. "For the next couple of songs, we'll need a little extra help! Devil, come up onstage!"

The little bastard. Pan and Ralph already knew what was going to happen. My heart beat faster. Music was of utmost importance in my family. While my brother had been gifted with better musical talents, I could sing okay. Certainly nothing impressive.

I hopped up onstage and stood behind the microphone, my head feeling light as always. I grabbed the mic stand with both hands to hide the trembling. But I shouldn't have worried. Galahad owned the stage. He turned the mic off and looked towards me. Back outside the bar, we had warmed up our voices, but he had done so in a different way.

"Let's see how heavy they can handle it," he said with a conspiratorial smile before turning the mic on again for everyone to hear, "Propeller! We're starting off with some Sonic Syndicate. This is called 'Denied'!"

The song wasn't particularly aggressive, but it was surely more than what others were used to, like with the verses where my brother and I went at them together. A few winced when we got to the part where I sang, "a situation like this, should never exist, then why are we..."

"OUT OF CONTROL!" Galahad didn't sing traditionally. He used the screaming technique that made his voice sound like those metal core bands. That's why he had to warm up again; otherwise, he could've damaged his vocal chords.

Even if it had been apparently out of the blue to do this, the band frequently practiced a few cover songs. Mostly because they had fun doing this, making patrons go out with heavy music, which most of their fans were familiar with.

Nervousness within me died. I sang louder, with a firmer voice, burying my usually collected demeanor with the energy given by an audience. My eyes frequently searched for Danielle and I sang while looking directly at her.

I saw a few faces in our table change drastically. This wasn't the image of the Dante they knew.

My voice calmed them down a bit, but when Galahad went for the next verses, people started to look a bit uncomfortable. A few others were more turned on by the performance. It was all good.

We ended the song, and a few cheered. Ralph and Clarissa made their exit; Ralph knew it was only getting heavier.

Galahad winked, saying, "So, now we're going for a song originally performed by Atreyu called 'Bleeding Mascara'!"

If others thought that it had been heavy before, that song was really performed to drive people out.

I sang the few verses that weren't screamed. People started getting the hint. Only a few metalheads and amused fans remained. However, the drunks, who weren't as comfortable, still sat there. After finishing 'Bleeding Mascara,' there was more to do.

"Very well, the last two songs are originally sung by some gorgeous women, but we hope it's all good for you guys!" Galahad winked and went straight into The Agonist's 'Thank you, Pain,' in which I barely sang since more than half of it is screamed.

To close the whole deal, without a break between songs, Overshadowed rocked In This Moment's 'Daddy's Falling Angel,' in which I sang even less and Galahad just screamed to his heart's content.

Halfway through that song, the drunks finally began leaving. Interestingly enough, Overshadowed gained a few extra followers.

I had to admit, the adrenaline rush from singing onstage could be addicting. It was a shame I hadn't been more talented. I hopped down the stage with my body trembling with unspent energy. We came back to the table.

"When will we get to think we know you, Dante?" Angelica was looking at me as if I were a hard-to-classify specimen.

"Never," I said, joking. Partially.

***

The group made small talk as we left the Propeller. Galahad and his date had vanished. Pan, Maria, and Alice were all impressed with Angelica and charmed by Janet, but I didn't care much. Danielle and I had been fighting the urge to fuck against the nearest surface, and we weren't too subtle about it. We weren't making out, but the looks we shared, the simple intensity of the touches between us, was electric and tremendously obvious.

"Dante, can I ask you a huge favor?" Angelica looked at me and I nodded. "Janet has to get home ASAP. I'll give her a ride, but since she lives near me, do you think you could give Danielle a lift?"

"Sure," I responded. It was one of those lies that you could quickly see for what it was, but nobody challenged it.

I handed Danielle a helmet out of the motorcycle's rear bag.

From behind, Danielle hugged my chest, her hands moving around in little circles, caressing me as I drove.

When we got to the first stoplight, I fidgeted as if the position had been uncomfortable for me, and I lowered her arms so she would be hugging me around the lower part of my torso. I knew the power of defined abs and I used it in my favor. She caressed me with more intensity and need for the next few minutes. I loved it.

We couldn't talk because we had helmets on, but we let our bodies say it all. She pressed her breasts against my back and raked her fingertips against my abdomen.

At the next stoplight, I moved Danielle's hand slowly down until it was between my legs. Her hand trembled as I guided it to my cock, but she grasped it and pressed herself harder against me. She caressed my hardness all the way to my apartment.

When we got to the parking lot, we were breathing hard, our eyes glazed with lust as we stared at each other.

We headed upstairs. She opened the door to her apartment and I silently followed her inside after she handed me the helmet. I placed it somewhere. I didn't actually care where.

"Dante, I need to know what's—"

I kissed her.

It wasn't like I was an animal in heat. It was far beyond that. It was an act of need, attraction, and overpowering hunger for my neighbor.

Danielle melted in my arms. I would've been proud of that fact, hadn't I wanted more of her. I pressed her hard against me and we walked with our mouths glued to each other. Somehow, we ended up in her room with me on top of her, making out heavily with the heavenly woman no longer resisting me.

I kissed her jaw. My hands found their way to her breasts, touching them softly through the bra, pressing against her nipples, getting her to squirm for me. Danielle tried to stop me, but I wasn't going to let her, not after so much time apart.

I lowered my hands a bit and started nibbling on her jaw line and then went for her neck, biting lightly.

She gasped. I touched the lower part of her bra, carefully kneading her soft breasts. Then I slid my hands under the garment and touched her skin. She shivered but stopped me again.

"We need to think this through."

"Do we?" I kissed her neck and her collarbone, making her tremble.

"Yes..." She was about to say something but slowly exhaled when my kisses gained intensity. "I don't know what to think about... This. What we're doing. Isn't it wrong?"

"Give me ten seconds and I'll ask you something."

Before Danielle could ask me what I meant, I spread her legs open and pressed my body against hers, letting her feel my hard cock through my jeans. My hands went directly for her breasts, bypassing her bra. I kissed her passionately and moved my hips, basically fucking her through our clothes.

She moaned into my mouth as I pressed myself harder against her. I bit her lower lip and massaged her softly. Her body became warmer and she wrapped herself around me, breathing heavily. After I felt she was already mine, I finally asked my question.

"Do you want me to go on?" I knew better than to ask if she wanted me to stop; the meaning behind the way to ask the same thing was different even if they had the same possible outcomes.

I separated myself from her and undid my belt, and then the button on my jeans. I lowered the zipper just slightly and asked Danielle one more time.

"Your call."

Danielle nodded.

I dove for the nightstand and took a condom out. Even if we had had bareback sex before, I didn't know if she could get pregnant, and I wasn't about to take that risk.

Oh, XXL condoms. I wasn't about to go out and buy standard ones, undoing all the tension and need. Besides, since I'm not small, it'd work.

My neighbor looked awe-worthy even when stunned by lust. It took her a few seconds to register what I was doing, and she began to go for her blouse, trying to undo it, but I stopped her.

"I need you now." I climbed on top of her with the condom already on, spread her legs open, hiked her skirt up forcefully, and pulled at the pantyhose slightly between her legs, tearing it open.

Danielle gasped and trembled at the same time, her exhalation giving a nice vibrato.

I positioned myself on top of her and began kissing her again, hard, and then placed the head of my cock against her labia, pushing slightly just to get the head in. I wanted to be certain that she was mine again, and she responded. She tilted her hips upwards and pushed her body against my hips, taking the first few inches inside of her. She sighed with need.

If for any reason I had thought that the second time we'd have sex would've been less feral, I was wrong.

The heat of her body and how her pussy lips yielded to my hardness drove me wild. I slid my cock inside of her in a long, single thrust, losing myself in the complex pleasure of having Danielle again. My hips began moving automatically, demanding more. My breath instantly became ragged, and we went from heavily making out to fucking hard, with no middle ground.

My thrusts were firm and aggressive, but made slightly awkward by my jeans. Danielle noticed it, and her hands traveled down to my lower back. She clumsily lowered my jeans, the movement cut short frequently by my movements.

Her body's beauty couldn't be denied, even under the clothes. Her curves were still mesmerizing.

I felt like a conqueror by taking all of what she could give me. Every moan, every breath of hers, became mine. Her inner walls milked me, giving me as much pleasure as I was giving her. Our movements were mostly out of instinct, but somehow we read each other naturally.

My hips slapped against Danielle's, the sounds becoming louder and louder. She was sopping wet, the fabric of her pantyhose adding another dash of naughtiness to our frenzied coupling. Her hands didn't leave my ass as she pulled me harder into her.

What was a wonder to me was the fact that I didn't need to study her movements or reactions much. An idea simply popped up in my mind, I followed it, and she'd moan loudly for me.

I angled my body to fuck her deeper, pressing against her at the end of every thrust. To do that, I needed to reposition myself slightly, which made me pause.

Danielle noticed she was grabbing my ass possessively as I was fucking her. Judging by her expression, she felt dirty for a second. But as I resumed my hip thrusts, I reached further in and she loved it, groaning in a higher-pitched voice that almost made me lose it.

I stopped supporting my weight for a second and kept pumping my hips, feeling every inch of her as I claimed her with every thrust, my hands reaching out for hers, guiding them back to where they had been before I made her touch me. It was as if she had been waiting for my permission. Once it was given, her hands gripped me. The feeling of being needed in such an intimate and physical way heightened the sensations, and I began fucking her as if I intended to break her.

The thrusts were hard and merciless, deep and precise... and exquisite. After only a few seconds, I was rewarded with one of the sweetest sounds I've heard in my life: Danielle screaming with pleasure. My body shivered with accomplishment, lust, and hunger.

I needed to make her scream again. I could see it in her face that the screaming had been against her will, but I couldn't live with that. When she lost control, her voice was overwhelming, for me, even addictive.

"Do it again." My tone wasn't as commanding as I had expected. I was requesting that she feel it and let it be known. "Scream for me, Danielle."

I steeled myself to ignore the heavenly feeling of her hot body milking every inch of me. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her curvy body in place, and repeated the savage movements over and over again.

Danielle obeyed. I whispered into her ear that I loved each sound that she made. She began coming, her screams becoming whimpers of pleasure, her pussy constricting my cock as waves of pleasure rushed over her.

I made my hips move faster, driving them into her as hard as I could in the position we were in. My hard cock pistoned in and out of her as she enjoyed her orgasm, her breathing out of control.

I was getting nearer and nearer, just a few seconds and... Danielle went limp. Her inner walls stopped pressing as hard as they had. My orgasm receded, but I didn't. I kept on fucking her hard.

My arms changed position and I grabbed the edge of her mattress. I was going to fuck her until I came. I didn't care if we broke the bed. I needed to claim her as mine one more time. From being limp, she began moaning softly again, her hands traveling up my back, caressing me. Then they went over to the front of my torso and hesitated.

"Touch me." I let her know how much I needed her.

Danielle tentatively touched my chest. Then she went lower and caressed my abs, then even lower, feverishly running her hands over the ridge of my Adonis's belt, the V-shaped ridge between the hip and abdominal muscles.

The fact that she was turned on by my body was great, but it was nothing compared to what her eyes were doing to me. She appreciated every straining grunt as I fucked her. She touched my face with wonder. She got lost in my eyes as I claimed her. I could only do the same. Her eyes were pools of beauty that sparkled and became even more alive when I felt my cock go all the way inside of her. We were joined more than physically at that moment.

I stopped giving a damn if it was wrong to have Danielle. I wouldn't settle for anything else.

"Oh, yes!" The short phrase came out of my mouth slowly and weighed far more than it should have.

Her pussy tightened when she saw how much I was enjoying it.

I might have been possessing her, but Danielle's effect on me wasn't dismissible either. Her orgasm leapt forward, her inner walls grasping my cock harder and harder, trying to make me come.

She began to get her wish.

I looked at her, and I could see the question in her eyes. Mine probably twinkled as an answer. Yes, I'm coming. The telltale signs were there, the overwhelming pleasure, the tightening of my muscles, the lack of control every now and then.

It was only a matter of seconds before it all happened.

Her expression showed delight. Not only from our sex, but of knowing that the chemistry between us was far from being only social. This kind of sex was something that I had only felt with her.

Her hands went up to my neck and she pulled me closer to her face. My arms stayed on the edge of the bed, my cock driving deeper, and faster, into her.

I don't think I'd ever fucked anyone as hard as I was at that moment, using my strength and weight to make Danielle come again. My face inched towards hers and we kissed one more time, our groans of pleasure muffled by each other's lips. Her breath was suddenly stolen by how we kissed and how we fucked. Danielle's pussy lips tightened around my cock.

The only sounds were the bed creaking under the assault of our incredible sex and the wet, rhythmic slaps of my pelvis against hers.

She came for me one more time, moaning sweetly into my mouth, her pussy trembling around my cock, milking it, succeeding in getting everything out of me.

I growled into our kiss as I felt semen jetting out of me. Being barely held back by the condom, my body went into overdrive to make both of us come as hard as we could.

The last seconds stretched into what seemed an eternity. Every rope of cum that came out of me felt like electricity between us. The universe contracted to only us as we became one again: her body wanting to feel me come and mine needing to feel hers accepting me.

Danielle moaned loudly as I emptied myself into the condom, our bodies moving erratically, somehow still coordinated in a way that every thrust went all the way to the hilt. Every time I pulled back, it wasn't too much.

I was still inside of her as our pleasure came to a peak.

Then I collapsed on top of her, shocked by the intensity of my orgasm.

I wanted more, but I knew better. I stayed there for a few minutes while the world and all that it contained could wait. Danielle had been mine again. Nothing else mattered but her warm body breathing heavily under mine, her hands touching me, her lips still locked with mine as we happily moaned in the random but intense aftershocks of a world-rocking orgasm.

Reluctantly, I pulled out and discarded the condom.

It was a thing of beauty, seeing my neighbor thoroughly fucked by me, glowing after the orgasms, panting heavily, the ripped pantyhose glistening with her arousal.

I smirked, but she muttered something I didn't understand.

"Sorry?"

"Just leave. You've had me, now go."

"I don't want to."

Ok, Dante, where the fuck did that come from? I wasn't sure why I said that, but it made sense in a mysterious way.

I kissed her again, ending the talk before it became awkward. Danielle was simply too good to be true, at least to me. I had just come and I wasn't going soft.

She pushed me back gently and looked into my eyes.

"Thank you... I just—I just need to think. Anyway, Dante..." There was worry in her voice. She was pausing way too much, which I didn't like at all. "Last time, we... we didn't..."

I sensed where the conversation was going. "I just checked. You don't have to worry about anything because of that. I can show you the paper if you want to read it for yourself. Or do you mean that maybe you could be—"




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 06



She shook her head.

I was discovering that talking about STDs can be very, very awkward. I also assumed she had had her period because she prevented me from even saying the word "pregnant," which I was thankful for.

That part of our lexicon was life-changing; the P word implied so many possibilities and considerations that we didn't need at the time And maybe it was stupid of me not to ask the whole question, just to make sure that she didn't misinterpret my prodding. But if she wasn't covering the birth control subject, I wasn't about to approach it. Not yet.

Interestingly enough, I didn't need her to tell me she wasn't going to avoid me anymore, so I nodded and took my clothes.

I headed for the door, but before I disappeared from her sight, I thought about it twice and strode back to her bed and kissed her intensely again, feeling her body soften after a few seconds. She looked at me dreamily, and I smirked before leaving.

***

My phone buzzed. A message from Pan.

"Things worked out in a strange way. Thanks for your help, hun."

Well, at least life is looking up for you, man. But it wasn't enough. Part of what I hated was the fact that I always thought things out. I always had the cold, rational mind before anything else, and right then, that wasn't happening.

I disliked that I had to fill sentences with "something" rather than the specific word that I aimed for when talking about things I felt. But it was because I couldn't understand it. My predictions had been wrong.

Out of the blue, Danielle had been avoiding me again. It hadn't been fun the previous time she hadn't talked to me, and it wasn't fun this time either. It didn't feel like a woman teasing, playing hard to get. Something was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I made up my mind.

I wasn't going to be on the passenger's side on this. It was my life. That woman had no right to be screwing things up for me. Next time I saw her, I was going to solve it, once and for all.

It happened on a Tuesday. I had seen this salad and it looked great. I was exiting my apartment on my daily store trip to buy some feta cheese, which was all I was lacking to make it come out just like in the picture I had seen. As I was leaving the apartment, Danielle was going up the stairs.

"Danielle," I said, addressing her as neutrally as I could.

She ignored me and continued walking.

"Talk to me."

She didn't and for once didn't fumble with her keys. She promptly opened up her door without any hint of clumsiness and closed it right in front of my nose.

"We need to talk, Danielle." I tried sounding a bit more diplomatic, yet noticed that I was still perceived as too imposing.

"Please... I need to talk to you." I hated how weak I sounded, but I waited outside her door. Ok, so maybe we're not talking this time, I told myself, and I even chuckled at my own cynical tone.

I had noticed Jason didn't visit anymore. I hadn't received any threats from him, which meant either they broke up, or she had hid the fact from him.

Apparently, the speed of gossip is faster than official news at work, too. Jim, my boss, was giving me less and less things to work with, the empty days beginning to pile on in an ominous way. I had made a habit of sending résumés during my free time. No luck so far. That particular evening, they'd even let me go a bit earlier. How did I end up being avoided yet again? And maybe about to lose a job? Damn.

At four twenty, I was a few blocks away from home. I made it that early by driving a bit recklessly. I left my motorcycle near the park instead of my house and walked purposefully through the middle of the park.

As focused as I was, I found it funny that a young woman was standing in the middle of a clearing. She was looking past me, but what was almost ominous was that the wind came and went around her, almost as if she had been in the middle of an unstable whirlwind. Curious as it was, I just walked by, going straight to my apartment.

I watched outside the window. This time, I most certainly looked creepy and didn't mind.

Danielle's car pulled over soon enough, and it was my turn to act. I exited the apartment and waited around the stairs, half a flight above our floor. When I heard the footsteps coming near, I immediately went down, standing between Danielle and her door. At least one thing should be going right in my life.

"Can you stop avoiding me?"

She didn't even look me in the eye. I extended my arm.

She tried to avoid touching me, but when I grasped her hand, I saw it in her. She couldn't deny that whenever we touched, there was some kind of energy between us. Perhaps it wasn't energy, but there was some kind of feeling, or hormones, or something. Damn it, I hate filling those sentences with "something."

"What do you want?" Danielle finally said.

"An evening. Or a night. A day. Even lunch only."

She looked at me. Whatever had happened between us since that time, I understood her a bit better. She got me in ways that were slightly frightening, but she knew I wasn't taking "no" for an answer.

"When?"

"How about right now?"

"Really?"

"Yeah."

I remembered my last text chat with my brother and had a good idea. Galahad had mentioned something about a series of exotic flowers and butterflies in a closed garden in town. Had to trust the guy who ran a flower shop and had a rock band.

Danielle put her helmet on, we got on the bike, and I drove off.

Her arms wrapped around me, filling me with too many incredible memories. I was hard all the way down to the flower expo and had to steer carefully. My blood felt too hot as it flowed through me, and I had to fight the urge to stop the bike, take her clothes off, and fuck her remorselessly for as long as I could. It didn't require being a genius to know that it wouldn't work with her, so I behaved.

We got to the expo, but I hadn't expected to see what received us.

The atmosphere was otherworldly; subtle chimes and soft music, nice lighting, and colorful flowers surrounded our senses as we watched hundreds of butterflies lazily fly around us. As cliché as it might seem, it was magical. I felt like a dork for feeling uplifted by the scene, but it was unavoidable. Everyone there seemed as if transported somewhere near Neverland, judging by the overall attitude and ambience.

"So, where were you born?" Danielle finally broke the silence.

"Is that your fifth question?"

"Hmmm... No."

"Then you don't get an answer for that one."

"That's unfair."

"I'm not saying you'll never know, just not right now." The meaning behind the phrase hopefully was obvious. I don't want this to be the last time we see each other.

"Jason and I broke up." The second she said it, I felt like shit, even if it was expected. After all, it was obvious it was my fault.

"Danielle, I—"

"It was the day you came over." She avoided talking about the situation itself. "After it happened, he called to invite me to dinner. When I hugged him, I smelled another woman on him. Of course, I shouldn't have been mad, but I was."

What do you say to that? She didn't wait for me to say something, however.

"Still, I tried to go along with it, tried to go with him. I was about to tell him about what happened between you and me when he broke up with me. He actually broke up with me after his friends posted pictures of him making out with two different women the night before at a party."

Two wrongs didn't make a right, and yet, what had happened made me feel better. So much for my morals.

She went silent.

I wished I had continued my mother's business just like my brother had. He could rant about flowers for hours. It would've been an excellent way to end the conversation. Then again, my brother had a whole rock star thing going on, so he had it easier. I barely knew anything about those kinds of plants. On the other hand, I could also see that the whole experience of being in this chunk of a fantasy world was rubbing off on her.

I smiled at her softly. For once, I didn't feel predatory while doing it. It was disconcerting for me.

"I've never seen this kind of butterfly before, actually," Danielle muttered and looked in wonder at a particularly bright and colorful specimen.

That innocuous comment sparked a small conversation that evolved into a long discussion about random things. My comments were short, but the conversation flowed easily. I even ended up making Danielle laugh once or twice. Every time she looked at me, however, I just wanted to pounce on her and ravish her. She sensed this and seemed tempted to go back to our previous game where we teased each other, but there was still caution behind her actions. She didn't dare look at me in the eye for long. She didn't touch me if she didn't have to. She simply gave subtle looks and sheepish smiles for me to know that the spark was definitely there. I didn't push it.

We were brought back to reality by an announcement over the loud speakers letting us know that it was almost nine and they were about to close. We had been there for hours, and I had barely felt a minute go by.

"Nanka taberun? Nihon ryori ka?" It felt natural to address Danielle in Japanese, the foreign language that both of us shared as an oddity. She laughed when she heard my evident Kansai accent.

"Un!" Her answer was short, but playful, so we headed for a Japanese restaurant as I had asked her. There, our conversation became a little more spaced as we ate, but it wasn't uncomfortable. We both knew exactly what was happening. We both felt the attraction growing with every passing second—every touch, unintended or otherwise, every glance shared—making the hairs on the back of my neck stand in a nice way.

When we were done, I took care of the bill, saying that it had been my idea to bring her. I failed to mention that it could be the last time I could afford that kind of thing for a while if I lost my job.

The drive back home filled me with tension as I basked in the closeness of Danielle's body, but I managed not to crash, and parked outside our apartment building. I even controlled myself as we went up the stairs.

When we were in the small space between the doors to each other's apartment, Danielle looked at me with hunger in her eyes, but something else—maybe resistance.

I hugged her good night because I knew if I kissed her, I wouldn't have stopped. The hug lasted longer than it should have, and it grew tighter. We were both filled with need, lust, and something else, and breathing hard when we finally separated.

"Do you want to...?" Danielle's question faded away as she looked into my eyes. Of course I want to. "Never mind. Thank you."

"No problem. Just... don't avoid me, ok?"

She nodded and closed her door, and then I heard the lock.

I muttered a "fuck" to myself and opened my own apartment door, entered, and right before I closed it, I heard the telltale sound of the door opposite my apartment being unlocked. It didn't open, but it was enough for me to know.

I went for it.

The apartment was dark, but I saw Danielle's silhouette and approached her.

The unexplainable connection between us was still there. I didn't need to talk. I simply crossed the room, threw my jacket somewhere, and kissed her hungrily, making her whimper.

Danielle's arms wrapped around me with urgency as we kissed passionately. She felt so turned on that I wouldn't have been surprised if she took her clothes off to reveal she was wet enough for us to have sex without any foreplay. But she didn't.

She acted as if it was still complicated for her. She gave herself to me one second; the next, she hesitated. At one point, her hand snaked down to caress my cock with urgency, and when I moaned, she intensified the movement...

And yet, when I touched her breasts, she sighed, but then turned the aggressiveness down.

It was a complex game, trying to get rid of her guilty feelings, trying to exalt her need for me, and trying to get her to simply enjoy what was happening between us.

I didn't know what had sparked such an unpredictable lust, but I was going to do my best to make her lose her mind. I closed in to kiss her neck and breathed in.

Her skin gave off a smell that was clouding my senses with lust. Danielle pulled me to her room, and I silently followed.

The other thing that was bothering me was that I wasn't domineering when she was around. It was as if we were both on auto pilot, both just doing what felt right with no need to prove anything. I had to have her again. And again. And again.

She stood near the bed and silently shed her clothes. I did the same while taking her glorious figure in.

We both moved to the bed while touching each other.

I lay down on my back, pulled Danielle on top of me, and happily let myself be loved by the woman of my forbidden dreams. She lightly slid up and down, making sure our bodies made as much contact as possible, entrancing me with the sensations.

Her long hair caressed my chest as she traveled down my body and then back up again. Her hand lightly took my cock, and then gripped it harder pumping her fist up and down, almost forcing me to groan.

Danielle's lips traveled down my body slowly. She let go of my hardness and kept on moving down until her breath touched my Adonis Belt, which she gave a tentative kiss and then licked in a way that almost felt dirty but yet was actually empowering. Kissing it up and down, my neighbor shuddered and moaned.

I didn't need to be told what part of a man turned her on.

Danielle finally let go and went further down until she came down between my legs and kissed my length all over, avoiding the head for a little while as she built the tension up.

When my curvy beauty gave me a slow, deliberate lick from the base of my cock all the way up to the tip before sucking on it lightly, I cursed in a low tone.

She smirked sultrily for me, and after looking deep into my eyes, she began slowly sucking on the head first, making me moan. Her head bobbed up and down slowly as she sucked me with patience, studying my behavior, analyzing what made me react, and then repeating the pattern until my eyes were tightly closed as she devoured my cock.

I was in heaven for a few seconds. Or minutes, maybe? I wasn't entirely aware of the world at the time.

When Danielle stopped for a moment, I took the opportunity to pull her again, making her lie on her back before I kissed her neck, biting it with hunger. She gasped with pain and pleasure and grabbed my head with desperation.

I kept on kissing her and went for her breasts. Soft, heavenly, and big enough to make her look bountiful, but not to an obscene measure. They tasted of her unique flavor. I licked, kissed, and caressed them with abandon, worshipping her nipples with my mouth, and hearing her soft moans when I nibbled on them.

My mouth traveled further south.

Danielle hesitated for a second before opening her legs, but I insisted, and she gave in. I kissed her thighs, going higher and higher before kissing her mound, then her labia. I began making out with her sex, going crazy with her taste, licking her pussy, and feeding my need to have her completely again.

Her skin was soft and flawless, the look of her breasts moving as her back arched was awesome since her breasts went almost flat against her chest as she was down on her back. They were totally real, and mine.

From below, my hands traveled up to caress the smooth mounds, a shiver running down my spine. Even if it wasn't our first time with each other, the overall feeling of exploring a new lover, finding what pushes their buttons, discovering all those little details that the first time were overlooked, and knowing that there was even more to come, made the whole deal even better.

Danielle quietly pushed me onto my back, unrolled a condom over my length, and paused—possibly thinking about what she was doing, maybe realizing that she was about to have sex with me again—hesitating.

Enthralled by making her moan for me, I hadn't even noticed her taking the condom out of the wrapping.

I pulled her to me and kissed her hungrily, caressing her body and pressing her against me, making her gasp. But that wasn't enough. I nibbled on her lips, and remembering about her neck, I bit it softly, but surely.

Danielle's legs opened slightly, and I didn't waste a second.

I pulled her up to straddle me. Having no patience left, she soon had my hard cock entering her.

Inch by inch, her hot body accepted me. I nearly came just from watching her take my cock. I couldn't get enough of her. Watching my hardness disappear into her luscious body while feeling her enveloping tightness was electrifying.

She was enjoying it just as much, her body shivering as she took me in deeper and deeper. I think I groaned. After more glorious seconds, I bottomed out in her and Danielle sighed for me.

The whole scene was enrapturing. Her curves looked luscious in the dim light, and she shivered with pleasure for a few seconds. Adjusting to having me inside of her was as intense for her as it was for me.

Danielle moved her hips with a hypnotizing cadence. I happily buried the back of my head into the pillow, groaning with the pleasure her body provided. She moved up and down in a calculated measure, and my cock felt every tiny squeeze when the curvy girl tightened her walls.

"Oh..."

Then she paused. On top of me, her body already glistening with sweat, her face showing doubt, I barely could think. My entire dick was inside of her and that was already too much for me to handle.

She slowly went up until I was out of her. I groaned with frustration but allowed her to do whatever she was about to do.

"I need to feel it again," she breathily informed me. She grasped my cock and lowered herself on it. When her pussy lips made contact with it and grazed it teasingly, I held my breath. "All... of... it."

Her fingers went for the base of my cock. Finding the end of the condom, she slowly peeled it off of me and held it out for me to see. Then, she lowered herself on my naked hardness in an agonizingly slow way.

I breathed in through clenched teeth, hissing, when I felt her bare, hot, wet pussy engulfing my hardness, forcing my eyes to close because of the shocking pleasure.

I treasured the stretched moments passing by. How wonderful it felt as inch after long inch of my unprotected cock made its way inside of my hot neighbor. I could feel every minuscule detail of her again and I wanted more.

Finally, I was fully inside of her again. My cock twitched, and she let out a small exhalation as she slowly began her ascent. I felt the crown of my cock directly stimulate the ridges within her, the overpowering sensation of skin against skin threatening to make me come immediately until I was almost out of her.

She descended again, slowly fucking herself on my cock and making us both moan. Danielle continued the slow pace, savoring every inch of me as I lost myself in the intoxicating pleasure of her depths.

A few times, she'd go so slow I'd feel as if my cock measured miles just by the unending waves of pleasure on her way down to meet my hips with hers. When I was about to get used to that sensation, she'd ride me aggressively with short thrusts against me, getting all of my bare cock inside of her. She'd groan with her eyes half closed in pleasure when the rhythm became more demanding. Often, I'd echo her moans of delight. Danielle squeezed my cock in such a delicious way I couldn't help myself.

"Oh!" Danielle's voice filled her room as we moved in perfect unison, her moans loud, my pleasure intense.

Minutes went by.




An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 06



After another slow hip rise by Danielle, I took both her arms and pulled her towards me without being brusque, but leaving her no other option but to comply.

I wrapped my arms around her and began pounding, driving my hips upward. In a particular thrust, I kept myself all the way inside of her, and then I rolled us both so I could be on top.

Just as she had done, I didn't go at it with a single type of timing. I'd fuck her furiously, basking in the wondrous feeling of her unprotected pussy contracting around me, and then I'd slow down, penetrating her with a lusciously slow pace to make her feel every inch of me sliding into her.

Danielle's moans grew louder and louder. I could feel her inner walls contracting uncontrollably, so I knew her orgasm was nearer than I had thought. And then, came the very obvious sign.

"Oh! OH!"

Her body was dreamy. Her body close to mine, shivering under me, was something I couldn't get enough of. My hands feverishly explored her curves, the silky firmness of her physique, and the hidden spots that would make her shiver with delight. My mouth closed around the small curve where the neck meets the jaw, and I nibbled, and then sucked, making her gasp. The kiss and soft bites started travelling down, forcing me to bend my back so I could continue moving my hips while simultaneously reaching her breasts.

Danielle's fingers urgently traced my skin. Then, using her nails and moving her hands up and down my back, her lovely voice emitted a throaty gasp.

Apparently, she thought it wasn't fair that I was far from coming because her hands found her way up to my scalp and started massaging it. Without any warning, she pulled hard, making my body tingle with pleasure, and I groaned for her.

Probably, she was told about my hair-pulling kink. If it's going to be like that... Maybe she knew how to turn me on right away, maybe not, but it was my turn to retaliate, and so I did.

I freed one of my hands, moved it down between our bodies, and although slightly awkward to do, but worth it, roughly massaged her clit. Her pussy immediately clamped down on me, and instead of a scream, she let out a sensuous, guttural breath.

I nibbled on her nipple and played with her clit a bit more to test my own multitasking abilities before separating my lips from her breast and straightening my back to allow me to position my body to fuck her with more strength than before.

Danielle's small hands kept on playing with my hair and tugging it, which turned me on more than was needed, as her pussy continued contracting around my cock. She yanked my hair hard enough for me to understand she wanted me to look at her, and I did.

"Harder," she whispered.

I obeyed, our hot bodies now making slapping sounds.

"Harder..." Danielle pleaded in her own manner, innocent, but insistent.

I complied, my hips moving in a precise manner as I rammed my naked cock into her.

"Yes!"

I grunted as I moved. Knowing my orgasm was imminent after so many caresses and rough displays of lust, and feeling my back hot and slightly sweaty, I was interested in this change in Danielle's demeanor.

"Like that..." My incredibly attractive neighbor was close.

"Come for me."

"Ah!"

Maybe I had stolen her. Maybe she had been mine without my needing to do that. I didn't care. After that small exchange, it was only a series of grunts and whispers as we moved, our bodies colliding and flowing with a single intention, a mix of desperation and skill, of need and determination, and it all came down to making the other feel as much pleasure as possible.

The pressure around my unclad cock increased by the second, and I groaned for her yet again as I felt the inevitably of my climax closing in.

In a sudden rush of sensations, my back muscles tensed. My whole body tingled with pleasure. I gasped as the first jet of hot semen rushed out of me.

My curvy goddess gasped and it was then that Danielle's orgasm began. I kept moving my hips desperately, pumping the hot, thick liquid straight into her depths as she shuddered and held on to me like a castaway to a piece of floating wood, both of us moaning softly.

The final movements were forceful and decisive. As my cock pulsated, I slammed myself into her, pumping more and more of my cream, filling her.

After we were done, I didn't pull out right away. I treasured the comforting sensation of a spent, hot, and sweaty body against mine. Because that's what I wanted to feel, and had needed to feel, I had the distinct impression that she needed it too.

Minutes went by.

I felt myself softening up, but I still didn't withdraw. As one, we stayed almost in the same position, cherishing the physical contact. Once again, nothing else mattered to me. I had Danielle.

After our high ended, I just stared at her.

There were things I wasn't voicing aloud. She was gorgeous and had been mine more than once, and everything that had happened around us hadn't torn us apart. It wasn't only her physical beauty that I admired; her obviously quick and crafty mind made her unbearably attractive to me. In the height of our lovemaking, I hadn't cared if I had stolen her, but it evidently was a by-product of the brain-canceling effects of sex on men.

The truth was, the forbidden nature of our previous acts weighed on me. I did care if I had stolen her. To be sure, I wasn't certain if what I had done (made her cheat on a cheating boyfriend) qualified as "steal," since their relationship was—apparently—already going down the drain anyway.

Still, Danielle and I needed to talk about so many things.

I needed to know more about her and she deserved to know more about me, because the way this intense relationship was going, it was definitely not destined to end up as a friends-with-benefits kind of thing. It could be one of those flaring, all consuming relationships that last a month. Maybe it could stretch out forever, or it could be... too many possible outcomes that I couldn't predict.

The thoughts came over me so quickly, they surely clouded my expression since my neighbor noticed the tension right away.

Danielle looked at me with almost fear.

She slowly raised her hand and showed me five fingers. The speed and intention behind her movement made the whole thing a bit more dramatic than I would've wanted.

"Ask ahead."

"Dante..." She paused long enough to make me uncomfortable, and that was saying something. "Do you love me?"

"Whoa, whoa, let's not get ahead of ourselves. I—" I stopped dead right there because it struck me. I breathed in. Then out.

Possible puzzle pieces started falling upon the table.

Perhaps this woman was more intelligent than she allowed others to see. The way she had seen me, the actions behind Angelica... Maybe it had been her idea from the start, me having sex with Trish, and then Angelica. If that was so, it would've been because she had wanted to avoid this kind of thing.

She had even done a few questionably moral things to prevent herself from going through the agonizing possibility of loving and not being loved, because maybe, what she felt for me wasn't full-blown passion, and perhaps, it was more than a crush and she couldn't bear to think what could happen.

Still, here we were. I didn't know for sure, just like many other things in life. I looked inward and spoke the truth as I had promised.

"I... I don't know."

While that might not have been the answer Danielle was hoping for, I could see relief in her eyes.

I also saw that it wasn't the answer she was expecting and fearing. As had happened since the first time we had had sex, I simply looked at her, knowing that talking wasn't necessary for her to understand what I meant.

She gave me a tiny smile that warmed things inside of me that I had thought dead. I don't know, but I want to find out.

***

I'd like to thank all of you for the encouragement sent and for reading up to this point! I'm not promising anything, but there might be a related story to this one coming up —eventually—, but it wouldn't continue with the story; this tale was thought out to end up at this point. As a small sidenote, in case you'd like further reading from them, Pan, Maria and Ralph are from the "Editing in the Dark" short story; Gabriel and Alice appear in "Diabolical Rapture,". 



An Unlikely Gentleman



"No..." Lorelai's voice was way higher than before.

"Yes."

"No, wait." I could see she was not serious, so I didn't give her a break, "Oh, no, no, nonono...God...noooo..." she elongated that word and raised the pitch until I thought she'd freak out every dog in the block. Her pussy clamped down on me; her body became steel, locked in position. She desperately stared at something I couldn't see. I let myself go, summoning that orgasm I had been barely holding back.

My ass contracted as I slammed myself against her for the last time. She had her right calf next to my mouth and I bit down on it, feeling all the tension rise in me right before I shot. Suddenly, I felt a very warm liquid jetting against my crotch, coming from Lorelai. I grunted when the electric feeling flowing from my core cranked up—felt the world become dim for a second as my semen filled the condom. Two jets, three... Yes. Ah, yes.

Danielle was very quiet. I assumed she was not a screamer like Lorelai. That, or she never cums. My blond companion had been turned into a royal disaster. I moved to the side, allowing us to breathe and calm down.

"I-I made a mess again. I'm so sorry! I—"

"It's what I wanted. Don't worry." There was a stretched silence again as our pulses returned to normal. She sat up, dazed, but scavenging for her clothes. Although I had planned to give her only one orgasm, I supposed there was no harm in being a gentleman and offering her more. "Are you ready for round two?"

"You...you can't be serious!"

"If you're near this bed within the next ten minutes, see how serious I am."

You would've thought I had used a cattle prod on her. She bolted out of the bed and got her clothing on in record time. She looked at me with confusion, something between awe and shame, before whispering her goodbye, "Dante, I-I can't do this anymore."

"Right. So you said the last...three times? Or is it four?" Eyebrow arched for maximum effect of disbelief.

"No, this time it's different. I really, really can't."

"Right."

"I...thank you."

Why bother answering to that? Just nod and let her disappear. The door closing announced my being alone again a few seconds later.

I could've had a reputation as a playboy. But don't brag. I don't tell you I'm great in bed. You tell me after I'm done with you. Nor did I kiss and tell; the only people that got to know about my conquests were my neighbors. If the girl in turn happened to be a screamer like Lorelai.

That had been fortunate. I had been planning on changing the sheets. I needed no further motivation.

***

"So, what do you think?" Good gods, man. I'm reviewing a flyer, not deciding if you're guilty of murder, relax. "Is there something wrong?"

"Hernán, breathe man, breathe. It's actually very good. I'm just thinking. The changes we need aren't your responsibility."

"Are you sure?"

"Section 1: I don't like the phrase I coined. I'm sure I can shorten it to five words. Make it easier to remember, catchier. And get rid of the word "satisfaction," at least once, so it's not repeated needlessly in the second paragraph of section 3."

"But Jim—"

"Yeah, Jim is the boss and he wrote that, but we have to make it right. I'll let him know. Anyway, you got everything right. If anything's up, I'll be there tomorrow to check it with you." Hernán finally let out a sigh of relief. Good grief, if that's my reputation and we haven't met in person, the guy is going to wet his pants in fear when we work in the same room. We exchanged polite goodbyes before hanging up.

I packed my few belongings in a small box. Somebody had their eyes fixed on me; the feeling was unmistakable. Miranda. We locked eyes and right before she couldn't hold my gaze any longer, I arched an eyebrow, slightly. This was the most expressive I'd been within the office in more than eight months. Her face became colorless. She buried her head in papers.

Of course I know who the "anonymous" email came from. There was Ronnie to my left, silently waiting. If he wanted me to start the conversation, he was mistaken. He considered going away, but he had a mission in mind. "Is it true, then? Are you leaving us for greener pastures?"

Greener pastures. Really. I let a second miserably crawl by before uttering a simple, "Yes."

His tone became hushed, attempting to inspire trust. "Tell me, why haven't you banged Miranda? Waiting until you're outta here so it doesn't get awkward?"

"She's married."

Ronnie stared at me as if I had answered in riddles. "Yeah?" His hand ran around in circles, urging me to finish my explanation.

"I don't do that."

"Danteee," he stretched my name in a patronizing way, "you are into ladies, right?"

"Are we quite done?" As if I need to prove my heterosexuality to you.

"Jeez, I was just saying, in case you were the only one not into the 'secret' of her passions." Still confusing cheesy with cool, huh.

"I'm quite aware of her being married." I deliberately made a small pause, blinked, and added with a final tone, "Regardless of her possible intentions, I'm not pursuing her."

Ronnie's biggest asset was his face. He appeared to have been sculpted by some perfectionist renaissance artist. Unfortunately, that didn't extend to his brain. He had more fingers in a single hand than conversation topics. I safely assumed that this was his most contrived way of finally going to one of those topics. Office gossip. Not interested in the conversation, I patiently looked at him. He smirked, and strode for his chaotic desk, machinating his seduction or ripping me to shreds behind my back. Not my problem in either case.

My phone buzzed again.

***

Normally, people didn't use the door bell, so the ding dong took a few moments to register, especially because I was in the middle of playing Robot Carnival's "Heart and Hand" on my harp. I eventually did answer the door.

"Hey, neighbor!" Danielle's tone was innocent enough, but damn it, it still triggered a pleasant stirring right where it counts.

"Hello." If people at work could see the differences between my work persona and me, they'd be even more confused, heh. Not cheery by any means, but certainly more than civil. I couldn't turn off the staring thing, because Danielle had shrunk slightly. She'd be easily mistaken for a slightly thinner, brunette relative of Christina Hendricks. My cock was getting harder by the second.

"My fridge decided to die on me right now. Would you mind storing just one or two things for me? They're supposed to come in tomorrow to fix that."

"Sure. I have a lot of space available, actually."

"Really? Thank you!" Her eyes almost glittered and she happily headed for her door.

After a few minutes she came in, not as loaded as I had expected. I noticed that I had left the pull-up bar mounted on the doorframe. I removed it while Danielle got her food relocated. She had taken almost half of the small freezer, which was empty, save for the ice. Note to self: buy frozen mango for shakes! After a few random items from a bigger grocery bag, she timidly fished out a gallon of milk. Two. Three. Four gallons? What is she, some kind of half-calf?

"Can't live without milk." She didn't look at me. "Let's see how many I can fit in here, without being a bother."

"If they fit, just leave them there. I really don't store that many things here. And see that artichoke dip? It's new. It's yours."

"Wow, thank you!" She hopped happily and gave me a quick hug. I prayed to seven different gods, hoping she didn't notice that I was hard from just looking at her. All seven bastards graciously ignored me. It brushed against her navel. She froze. Danielle quickly regained her composure and stuffed the last three of the gallons inside the refrigerator. We found ourselves hoping for a way to divert the attention. Mercifully, something popped up in her mind. "So, Elle was talking about you today at work."

"Elle?" I scanned my memories for any Elles I might've known, let alone that might have also known my hot neighbor, cursing myself for not using this connection before to get to Danielle.

"Well, not 'Elle' as in the name, but more like 'L', the letter. That's what we call Lorelai."

I almost stared stupidly. "Ah. Well, Lorelai?" Fuck. And eloquent, eh, Dante. Chances severely lowered in case she did break up with Mr. DanielleBoyfriend.

"Yes, blond, sporty... She doesn't look like the kind of girl that would go straight to business, to me. And I guess you have also talked, right?"

"Oh, well, we do talk—"

"That's what I think, anyway. L works in the same high school as me." Wait, she works in a school? "I'm HR. She's PR."

"I see." No, I really don't. "I hope that it wasn't anything bad," and I really did. Because suddenly, I didn't like the conversation so much.

"Yup! I don't mean to judge, but why play dirty?"

"Do what?"

"Well...you did quite the number on her yesterday." She, at least, was amused. More than I could say about myself. "But...she's about to have a boyfriend, you know? Why would you do that?"

My, my, my, this is getting better by the second. "She what?" I ignored the fact that she somehow planned her life as in 'I will have a boyfriend soon'; she almost made me betray one important principle I kept.

"Yesterday, she met you outside the store, right? She went all, 'I...I'm telling Dante I've got a date. The relationship's almost official.'" Danielle did a spot-on Lorelai impersonation. I smiled. She continued. "But! Just like that!"—snapping fingers for extra effect—"you convinced her of...of not behaving so well. I could tell."

Don't act surprised, Dante. You wanted her to hear. Did she just check my jeans' bulge right now? "Wait a second." I tried to defend my case. "She never mentioned a boyfriend."

"Is that right?" She closed the distance between us, as if challenging my credibility in a playful way. If she checked my goods, I felt entitled to reciprocate. I looked at her breasts as stealthily as possible. Nice. Very nice. The skin was perfect; I could almost feel the softness.

"I don't do that kind of thing. I wouldn't like to be cheated on, so I don't help others cheat." Unless their significant other is a complete douche bag.

Danielle didn't believe me, but she let it slide. I noticed that she wasn't uncomfortable when our eyes met. Her having a boyfriend did work against my scrutiny; she didn't feel overwhelmed. But at the same time, she didn't move back. I could hear her breathing and I imagined her breathing in a VERY different situation. My erection twitched at the thought. And, of course, she saw it. Suddenly, the sexual tension was creeping back. Worse, I was the only one who was tense, apparently. I waited for the other proverbial shoe to fall and make things more awkward. It didn't, fortunately. The silence was so profound that she noticed something in the background.

"Dante! Is that Japanese music?"

"I listen to everything. Turkish, Arab, Japanese, Korean. I like variety."

"I speak Japanese," she said, her tone resembled the one used by children when they mischievously reveal a secret.

That was suddenly interesting, not only because I was ogling her. Ladies, just so you know, finding active brains isn't a turn-on only for you. There's a few of us men who find intelligence and culture not only intriguing, but it actually cranks up your hotness score. Although Danielle had just climbed up the ladder even higher, I refused to stare stupidly. I had to say something. "Honma?"

She actually laughed, and, fuck my hormones, her laugh also aroused me. Unfair. "Subarashii! Kansai ben? Demo, hai, hontou ni. Ojiisan wa Nihonjin desuyo."

"Nande yanen!" I also playfully slapped her shoulder, as required by the phrase. A good excuse for me to touch her. Touch that sent a wave of a pleasurable something, too.

"Really! I mean, I might not show it, but I'm one-quarter Japanese. Grandpa refuses to speak to me in English—Refused." Danielle experienced grief when she corrected herself and then it quickly washed away. It was refreshing to find a person who freely showed her emotions, one after the other. "How come you speak it, and, of all, with the Kansai accent?"

"I spent a while in Kyoto and Osaka—"

The nice connection was interrupted by her ringing phone. "Baldy!" she bubbly answered. It was cute in a way I wouldn't have liked to experience. Her boyfriend was going bald. She lifted a finger, asking me for a minute. I obliged. When the phone conversation was over, there was a new air between us. More comfortable, unfortunately. "Anyway, I'm off to eat something before Jason picks me up," she added, picking up a milk gallon.

"Wait, aren't you going to leave that here? Take a glass."

"Meh, I'll just drink it all."

A whole fucking gallon. In a single meal? I squashed away all the dirty comments about me, her, and milk that crossed my mind. "Hey...well, if you'd like, you can wait here for him."

"Thank you, but I have to get into something decent, you know?" She excused herself with a gleeful, "Thank you! Byeee!" When Danielle closed the door, she left me with questions and a hard-on.

***

During the workout, I did more pull-ups than needed, until my lateral muscles warned me they'd be getting an early retirement if I kept harassing them like that. I needed to get the edge off and exhaustion sounded like a good plan. Right. Frozen fruit for my shake.

I jogged back to the store, extending the workout. Just for kicks, I trotted through a different path on my way there. I saw Danielle and her boyfriend, Jason Baldy, zoom by in his car. That damned woman needed to stop crashing into my mind; I had just stopped thinking about her.

I got some frozen mango and soy milk. The store was playing a song that I knew, and that meant I was going to have "The Sun Always Shines on T.V." on my mind for the next hour or two. Great.

Resuming the workout, I trotted down the street. I planned to exhaust myself. When I had enough breath, I found myself muttering 'hold me close to your heart, touch me.' Damn you, A-ha. Damn you and your song.

She was the image of defeat and frustration, which I found a bit dramatic. She was probably 20, tall, with red, wavy hair. Cute. Her predicament: a very flat tire. She regarded me with hope, but didn't voice it aloud. I walked towards her and skipped the obvious, odious questions. "Do you have the tools to do it?"

"D'you mind?" New York accent? New Jersey?

"Not at all."

"In the trunk, here." She clicked a button on her keys and the trunk moved slightly, accompanied by an unlocking sound.

I dug around until I found what I needed. I changed the tire while amicably talking with her. Trish, recently moved to the city, hated the drinks here, especially her vice. "Quofee? Outrageous East Coast accent." I employed some kind of deadpan tone, and she laughed. Her breasts jiggled when she did, and I paid more attention to her body. Not natural D cups. They worked very well for her height. She was roughly my height, six feet. Her red hair was natural, judging by the freckles not concealed by a very light amount of makeup. Eyes, darker than mine, but with a sensuous almond shape. She was damn gorgeous if you didn't feel intimidated by her height. I sure didn't. Was she still laughing? Maybe a bit too much for a simple joke. But it was done. Tire successfully changed. Sweat and tire-grime were my new accessories.

"Well, Trish, I'd shake your hand, but I'm dirty." I nodded to end the conversation, yet she reached out for my hand and shook it.

"I don't mind that. After all, you did the gentleman thing, and all!"

"An Unlikely Gentleman," I shrugged, knowing that she wouldn't get my meaning. I was about to turn away when she placed a hand on my chest, ignoring the sweat.

"Maybe, but I'm still very grateful. How can I thank you?" Whoa. That is fast. Her tone indicated that she had a few ideas, but I didn't want to assume too much and become the ass that misread the whole deal.

"Uh...you can buy me dinner one of these days if you appreciate it that much, or something," I told her, not moving my eyes away from her.

"Or something." She accepted the second option, trailing her hand down to the waistband of my running pants.

"I...well, let me get cleaned up, my apartment—"

"You're sexy, all sweaty like that." Ok, when did girls get so easy? I mean, I can live with that...but when? She was already in her car. She patted the passenger's seat. "I live fifteen minutes away from here. You?"

"Three blocks away."

"Your place," she almost purred. No complaints there.

***

I had barely closed the door when she embraced me from behind, her hands snaking around my body. Trish trailed her nails down my torso until she arrived at the waistband. "It IS a six pack what I feel," she hummed appreciatively. Not all of the six of them showed, but I wasn't about to correct her. Turning around, I placed my index finger on her chin, then moved it down slowly until it was near her breasts. From there, I went towards her back because she pressed against me, touching tentatively until I found the bra hook. Undone, without getting rid of her blouse. She smiled devilishly at me. "And here I thought I was going to thank you."

"You are." I began by massaging her breasts through the fabric, relishing the texture of it, the softness of her mounds. She sighed happily, and I slipped one of my hands under the blouse. They might not have been natural, but they were an impressive job of a very good surgeon. I placed the second hand underneath the garment and felt her up with a little bit of impatience. She stopped for a second, her face suddenly very serious. I didn't know what she was considering or remembering, so I asked a silent question with my eyes.

"Hmmm...I like that couch" She pointed at the brown piece of furniture "You are going to fuck me against it." I couldn't prevent an anticipatory growl from escaping my throat. Feisty girl. I approved. She walked towards it, discarding her clothes efficiently and quickly. Trish sat on the edge of the couch in her panties and socks only. Her underwear was plum colored, small, and sexy. Her breasts stood up with a perkiness that enthralled me. She moved her panties slightly to the side, showing me a perfectly shaven but damp pussy as she caressed herself. "Y'like your reward?"

I moved towards her...past her... I could feel her confusion. I reached behind the TV and produced a small, metallic wrapping. Yes, condoms behind the TV. I didn't know when or where they might be needed, so I had planted them strategically all over the place.

Without haste, I removed my clothes. We barely knew each other, yet I counted on the visuals to work for us. Getting rid of the shirt, I found myself slightly flexing so my muscle definition was enhanced. She opened her mouth slightly, hungrily, her hand moving faster. She was wet enough that we could've even skipped the foreplay.

I kept my pants on and strode towards her, making sure she could read in my eyes all the desire I felt. She answered with silent resolve, as if accepting the challenge, but defined the rules. "I still have to turn in an essay before midnight, so we gotta be quick."

I nodded and slowly lowered my pants along with the boxers, exposing my length little by little, showing that I was already quite hard. She showed me her teeth slightly, and when I took her beauty in, I noticed for the first time that she had her navel pierced. Don't blame me. I had more important things to be distracted with!




An Unlikely Gentleman



I prowled towards her with the confidence of a conqueror and opened the condom wrapping. She extended her hand towards me, her fingers sticky with her need, and touched the base of my cock. I could imagine myself plunging into her without anything between us, but I had to be cautious.

"I want a taste," she let me know.

"I'm not—"

"It's okay. This just looks yummy." Girl, I haven't taken a shower. Before I could say that aloud, she kissed and sucked on the tip. I sucked air in with my teeth closed, making a hissing sound. "You DO taste good," Trish informed me right before diving back in, sucking me as if I were the best thing she had put in her mouth in years. She knew what she was doing, and I let myself be loved. But it stopped all too soon. "If we had time, I'd do this for hours." She deposited that statement into my eyes from below, and I believed her. "But we don't." She leaned back, raised her open legs, and stayed there. The invitation couldn't have been more obvious.

"Enough time for me to make you cum. Hard." This confidence without cockiness worked again, because her eyes glittered. I sheathed my manhood in the condom, thought about getting rid of my clothes, and decided against it.

Stretching one hand over her head, onto the backrest of the couch, I bent over her. The other one grabbed my cock, and before getting it in, I slid the head up and down her entrance. Her pussy lips were aching for it, but I gave myself a few seconds to rub my manhood against her clit, and then lowered my hips slightly to be level with my "prize."

The first seconds of having sex might be one of the best, so I got the head in and savored the moment, letting her adapt to my girth. I drew it back, and then pushed in just a few millimeters more. Back. And in again, invading her little by little, taking as much time as a quickie can allow you.

Every time I went deeper, she gasped. I could see the world disappearing for her, and I became her all. She was really enjoying herself, without any shame of being hungry for more cock. When our groins met, she closed her eyes and lifted her face slightly.

Both my hands moved up to the sturdy part of the backrest, and I pulled back until only the tip was in. Then, knowing she was wet enough, I slammed myself into her, and stayed there, pressing against her body. Trish yelped. I grinned. I pulled out almost completely again, trying to analyze her insides with the most sensitive part of my body. Then I rammed against her body one more time. She let out a satisfied, "Ooooh!"

"I like my prize," I said, my eyes burning into hers.

I pulled back, that time, too slowly. It was the kind of moment on a ride in an amusement park, when it all goes painfully slow, right before the rush. I did the same with my cock. I could almost hear the "clickclickclick click, click, click...click...click..." I unleashed a series of savage thrusts into her, clenching my teeth and driving my dick into her pussy—as if I wanted to flatten her—using my pelvis to do so. Trish screamed, punctuating every single pistoning movement with her voice. "Ah! Ah! AH! Ah!"

Her breasts moved in an obscene but alluring way. I bent closer to her, concentrating on ravaging her body. I had noticed that a certain angle had had a better response from her and I replicated it. "Ah! Ah! AH! AH! AH!" Yes. That's the one.

She opened her eyes, and I knew I had made her mine. If I hadn't been fucking her like a madman, I would've thought she was outraged. But I knew that kind of pleasure. I smirked at her and opened my mouth slightly at her breasts. I couldn't reach them without letting go of the back of the couch. She got the instruction and fed me one of her generous, fleshy globes. I sucked on the nipple. Hard. I felt five nails on my left bicep. She was digging her hand into it. Sensitive breasts? That was good to know.

I flicked my tongue and I tasted something with alcohol. Sniffing, I could think of...perfume. On her breasts? Whatever, Dante, concentrate! I alternated the tongue movements with nibbles and she lost it. Her hands let go of my arm and her right breast.

When she recovered, she took her other breast and guided my head to it with urgency. She was breathing hard and her face was difficult to read. Before kissing her other breast, I gave her one simple order. "Don't wait for me. Cum. NOW." I kept attacking her body with mine. Her walls closed in around my shaft. My pelvis made wet sounds, loud. Letting all my tension work for our benefit, I closed my eyes as I worked on her breast, sucking hard, biting slightly, and flicking my tongue at the same time.

With my eyes shut, I concentrated on the feelings and on the sounds. It was primal, we were fucking in a way that left no doubt that our bodies were calling to each other like animals. She was giving away strong moans with each thrust, but suddenly went quiet. Even through the condom I felt her cumming. She began spasming, massaging my cock erratically with her inner muscles. Was almost there and—

Motherfucker, she is going to make me bleed! Her nails dug into my back, making me lose my concentration. For a second I thought she was going to ruin my back tattoo. My eyes opened, and I bit her on her nipple, slightly harder than before. I sucked hard, part in revenge, part to make her cum harder. I was still close, more so after seeing her face contorted with pleasure. That was going to leave marks on my back. She was hungry for more, just plain and dirty. I liked it.

I fucked her mercilessly until I felt it building up again within me. My back was sweating, maybe bleeding, and I didn't give up when she finally started breathing again. There it was, my balls moved closer to my body, and I felt the head of my cock sending a flood of pleasure signals to my brain, making me tense.

I had thought I couldn't fuck her harder. I was wrong. The couch complained under the mistreatment of our bodies as I stopped caring about her pleasure. She had come. It was my turn then. Maybe I was being a little too rough, but I used her, sliding my cock in and out at an angle that created the most friction on the right parts for me. I sucked even harder as I felt the condom being filled with my seed with each jet. The suction made her gasp.

Was she cumming again? I had lost control by then and just pounded into her without rhythm, grunting through the rest of my orgasm. She was cumming again. Instead of simply stopping, I kept pumping, mostly for her, as I was spent—doing it until I felt her coming back from the high.

I extracted the condom and dispensed it quickly in the almost-full kitchen trash can.

"We're doing this again," she said, as if it were hard to believe that I could give her such sensations, "but not today. I need your number, e-mail, Facebook...everything." I nodded and felt my face going back to its typical lack of expression. I rummaged quickly in one of my drawers and produced a card. "Ah-SAY-duh-queue?"

"Acidaque is enunciated as Ah-see-DAH-keh," I corrected her.

"Nice to meet you, Dante Acidaque. Where's th'last name from?"

"Spanish word that comes from Arabic."

"That's why you're, like, white, with that dark hair and light brown eyes." She used curious hand gestures while enumerating my traits.

"Explaining my genetic background would take us an amount of time that I'd rather spend fucking you," I unapologetically sentenced. I either expected her to take offense, or—

"You got yourself a deal. I'd rather have your genes in me, than explained to me, too." Trish smiled as she got dressed.

***

Blessed day off. Weekend before starting in the other office.

Danielle's piano could barely be heard in the distance. I'd thought of joining her with my harp, as many things could be said through music without words, but it was too risky. Would she feel like I intruded? I stayed firmly glued to the couch. As I flipped through the channels, absentmindedly caressing my back that HAD bled (slightly) from the previous day's activity, my smartphone buzzed with an email notice. I was one of two recipients.

LUG meeting this upcoming week or what, bitches? I humbly suggest Saturday, since Friday's my anniversary. If you're pussy whipped and unable to come, let me know!

-GV

I smirked. Gabriel was such a dork. I didn't think he could actually say "bitch" aloud. But he was one of my best friends. As I was about to type the answer, the doorbell rang. Nobody used the doorbell, and the piano had stopped, so thank goodness I had just gotten laid hours before. Otherwise, I would've jumped on Danielle.

"Heyyy!" Gods, is this woman ever not giddy? And fucking scrumptious? She was wearing a very professional, dark red dress that made me want to bend her over and do not-so-professional things on her.

"Hey." My answer was definitely less energetic.

"The technician needs some part that I didn't understand, and it'll take a day or two to get it fixed! I really hope you don't mind!"

"Not at all, don't worry." That means you'll be around more often. I didn't say it aloud; my voice would've betrayed me, and it would've sounded hungry for her.

She walked in towards the refrigerator. "Well, it doesn't smell like sex. What kind of deodorant spray you use for this place?"

That was very direct for her usual banter. Was I getting friendzoned? "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's not like it was a secret thing and all." She was mirthfully conspiratorial.

"I didn't see Jason's car parked yesterday." Great, idiot, let her know that you're checking every detail of hers.

"Ah. Well, maybe it... Well, I wasn't here."

"Then how did you...?" It dawned on me. "You know Trish!"

"She's a student. I get along with her very well."

"You set me up!"

"You poor, poor soul had to endure having sex with a 19-year-old." Her tone was far from sympathetic, in friendly banter mode.

"She is 19!"

"Perfectly legal. And she's a good friend. After L going out of the market but giving us the details, Trish called dibs."

So Danielle knew probably everything, hell, maybe even the dimensions of my private areas just by having two friends that had slept with me. Awesome. "But it just happened—" I complained.

"Who do you think texted her when to stand on that street with a 'flat tire'? Dante, you go out every single day to that store to buy something!" Flat tire with air quotes. She actually had made a scheme to get a friend laid.

"Couldn't she just have come on over and said, 'Hey! I'm your Lorelai replacement. Let's do this'?"

"And feel like a slut?"

I was not about to argue with that, even if I understood nothing of the logic behind it. While talking to her, I put my hands in my pockets to give my erection some kind of concealment. She went over to the fridge and got out one of her milk gallons.

"Can I use a glass?"

"Certainly."

I got up to fetch it since Danielle was definitely too short to reach the cabinet. I handed her the glass and nodded when she thanked me. Then I saw it. A tiny spider on her hair, near her neck. Where the hell it might have come from, I didn't know, but I said nothing. If I have learned anything about spiders, it's that the X chromosome is terrified of it. Usually, XX means freaking out about them. My hand shot out to swat it away.

Danielle gasped, seeing me reaching out for her. When I touched her hair and neck, she let out a breathy sigh that made contact with my arms. She appraised me with an unreadable expression. I couldn't do it. I wouldn't screw things up. "Had something on your hair."

She visibly relaxed. From fright, arousal, or what, I couldn't tell. But I had learned that her neck was sensitive. "Thank you." She smiled and I had to step back. Her scent was driving me crazy.

"No problem. Why so fancy?"

"The school is giving awards to the highest GPAs and we're all supposed to attend. It's later today and...wasn't your hair different?"

Busted. "I darken it."

"Oh. Wow. Well, you pull it off very well. I would never have guessed."

"Let's not publish this. People seldom take hair dyes on a guy in a positive way."

"Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me," she said solemnly, as if I had given her nuclear launch codes to safe keep.

After I had touched her hair, it seemed we had overcome some kind of stage in our friendship, and she reached over to touch my shoulder in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. I felt it firing up very inconvenient needs. It was my turn to breathe deeply and move away. 'She has a boyfriend' became my new mantra. And I hated it. But this man Dante followed his rules. She, too, stepped back slowly, as if measuring my reaction, and went to the living room.

She sat on the couch. I did my damned best not to think of anything. "Actually, I have to go to a salon to get my hair done for the event, so I'm bailing in a few mins." She sipped her milk. "But I have a question!"

I just nodded for her to proceed, still in thought-denying mode.

"You play harp, I think? I've heard it."

I nodded.

"And you speak Japanese. By any chance, do you know any TVXQ songs?"

"Obviously 'Doushite', since it has harp. Also, 'Begin', 'Love in the Ice'...and 'Proud.'"

"You should learn 'Bolero'! But those are very nice." Her phone emanated some weird sound, and I attempted to fry it with my mind. My mental superpowers demonstrated their lack of existence. But I could ogle her without surveillance. She giggled when she read something. "Well, whatever you did to Trish, she is texting OMGs yet again. I'd better go. Hair needs to be done! And I suspect you'll be 'entertaining' a guest very soon." Air quotes yet again.

Sex three days in a row? I was starting to like that week.

***

"You. Y're gonna do all those things to me—all that yesterday stuff."

"Not a chance until you file those nails. I fucking bled."

Trish had already closed the door behind her and was getting rid of her clothes as if they were on fire, ignoring my comment. "I've been wet all day, y'know?"

That helped. But if there were a good chance to play dumb, I'd take it. "Why?"

She ignored me again and stood perfectly naked in front of me. "Why are y'still clothed?"

"Patience, kid," I told her, amused.

"Kid! You're not old enough to be my dad." She was working very hard to undress me in record time, and I let her.

"Ten years older...yeah, couldn't be your dad," I conceded.

Trish stopped for a while and blinked with plain disbelief. "Shut up! You're what, twenty-nine? I thought you were like twenty-two..."

So, she's aware that Danielle and I have already talked about her age. I finished lowering my briefs and my cock sprang towards her pretty lips. "Twenty-nine, but horny like a sixteen-year-old. Now hurry up. It's not gonna suck itself."

"Pffft, who's the impatient one now?"

"Don't you pffft at me, kid." I enjoyed this unexpected chemistry between us. But I enjoyed it more when she got to sucking my cock with a passion seldom seen in other partners I'd had. She even hummed happily, as if there were no greater pleasure for her than having my penis in her mouth. And I was barely acquainted with her. For all I knew, it could have been her greatest pleasure.

This girl knew her stuff. Her mouth was a wonder. The suction was in the borderline of overwhelming pleasure and a bit of pain, her tongue patterned and unpredictable but soft and skilled, and her lips applied the correct pressure.

I groaned and had to steady myself against the window. I reveled in the visual and kinesthetic glory of the girl who was giving me more than a blowjob; she was worshipping my dick like nobody I had ever met. My breathing was loud, but not more so than the obscene, wet sounds our bodies created. She was sloppy and enthusiastic beyond any expectations.

"What d'you eat?" Trish asked, jacking me off while she talked, then going back to it, eager to make me cum.

"Huh?" I was utterly confused.

"You taste so good...what do you eat?" She proceeded to kiss the underside of my penis.

"I...uh..." Honestly. My IQ was down to a single digit with her treatment.

"Anyway. Gonna cum soon? I want it."

I groaned yet again and suddenly remembered that I did have another hand. I felt her hair, soft, silky, and a bit tangled. At first I directed her movements little by little, but she whimpered in such a wanton way that I soon found myself fucking her face, to both our enjoyment. There was this feeling...her fingernails caressing my balls. And that sent a shot of adrenaline, because I knew what those nails were capable of. But at the same time, I already was trusting her enough to suck me off. So why wouldn't I?

Out of the blue, Trish started sucking harder and did something with her tongue. A deep sound crawled out of me, and then I warned her. "I'm close..." The Dante I knew liked giving orders, and he didn't disappoint. "Swallow it all."

My command was met with an enthusiastic muffled moan, and she continued her treatment of hard suction and whatever it was that she did with her tongue. She touched my abdomen appreciatively when I began pumping harder. She felt my core contract as I came. I ejected a large amount of semen, as if I hadn't cum in weeks; it felt thicker, hotter than before, coming out in spurts that drained my energy.

Trish surprised me. If I had thought the previous sounds had been obscene, these were downright sinful; her swallowing was just incredible. I had thought she wouldn't go with it. I orgasmed silently, feeling her lap everything up, and I shuddered, thinking about how pleasantly kinky it was, having her obeying. My knees stopped giving a damn about supporting me, leaving me to rely on my arm against the wall and window. I opened my eyes, which I hadn't even noticed closing.

Right in front of the window. Thank goodness Danielle's apartment was the only one that could see the show and she was busy in a... Was there movement behind the curtain? Wasn't she supposed to be getting her hair done or something?

I had more pressing matters. Like a horny teen trying to devour my meat. I did believe her then, that she would probably be able to do that for hours and suck me dry. But that's not how I played. "Up." She tried to evaluate my intentions, slightly worried. I assumed my tone had been forceful, because she appeared to think she had done something wrong. I'd have to remember she was young. "You were very good, now I'm going to repay the favor." Well, I should've played a "hallelujah" chorus as a background to that comment, because her eyes lit up.

"For real?"

When I had been in college, the average guy wasn't fond of going down on girls. I assumed that the percentage hadn't changed greatly. And since Trish had made me cum first, now I had to compensate for it. She actually tried to pull me down so I would attempt it with both of us on the floor. That wouldn't be comfortable enough. I pointed towards my room.

"So I finally get to see th'bed, Mister?"

I had called her 'kid' to tease her. I did have that one coming. "You have earned the rare privilege of spending the night with me." I held the door open and made a theatrical hand gesture towards the bed. "Notice I didn't say the word 'sleep', by the way."

She didn't act like a child, however; she swayed her hips towards the bed, crawling feline-like and settled herself, using as much space as possible on the mattress. "Then this is my side of the bed," she informed me, breathily.

"The center?"

"Under you." She beckoned me with a finger, and I had to admit that she knew how to keep a guy turned on, even if I had just cum.




An Unlikely Gentleman



After walking towards her, I pushed her back to grab her left foot and nibbled on it. She tensed in a barely noticeable way and sighed. I kissed and bit my way up to her hip, doing only the outside. I repeated the same treatment on the other leg, and then spread her legs open and alternated between left and right, but on the inner side. I inhaled her incredible scent. I lifted her ass slightly, extended my tongue, and ran it from the lowest part—slowly, all the way up to the clit—and pressed against it. Trish shuddered and pulled my hair. "Pineapple," I said, doing a zigzag motion on the way down.

"Wha...?"

"Banana." Amusement coated my voice just like her juices covered my mouth, as I nibbled on her swollen lips.

"I-I don't...get it..."

"Girls..." I repeated the zigzag motion, now upwards.

"Dante..."

"You asked me what I ate." My tone was as nonchalant as I could make it. The old alphabet technique seemed like a good idea if I also alternated random tongue thrusts with gingerly inserting my fingers. In between, I sometimes named something included in my diet, but muffled by her, I doubted she understood. Or cared. But it was my belief that the particular mixture of techniques was good. My finger moving in and out almost became a blur. It was time to see if Trish agreed with my beliefs.

"Yes!"

That was easy. The sound that came out of her was similar to despair, but there was one thing I'd yet to try. Renewing the approach, I licked her all over, trying to get her as clean as possible. I placed two fingers at her entrance, my teeth right against her clit, and inhaled. When you speak languages like Spanish and Russian, rolling R's are useful. Going down on a girl, priceless.

I made a long 'rrrrr' sound, the vibration going straight to her clit, as my fingers invaded her body at the same time. Trish jumped, grabbing my head with exquisite desperation, and submitted to the pleasure.

After a few seconds of this, my motions were simply to alternate randomly between the techniques I knew and to focus on the ones that made her squirm, yell, or even curse. She became wetter. My fingers inside of her informed me of her upcoming orgasm, before Trish even tried to tell me. My other hand grasped her ass firmly. I dove with enough strength to apply pressure, but not too much since it was unknown to me if her clit was the kind that was too sensitive. I didn't want pain for her. I wanted her to cum hard.

She granted me my wish, trembling for seconds, her insides almost crushing my finger. I recalled what it was like, when, just a few hours before, it had been my cock in her. When she remembered how to breathe, her eyes weren't focused yet, but eventually they came to rest upon me. "Do y'give classes on that? I can tell y'about a guy or two that should enroll." Do they charge her if she says 'you' and 'the'?

"Sorry to disappoint, no." My class had been locking myself in with one of my friends and going down on her, doing it over and over again, listening to her comments, and licking her until my tongue went numb. "Want another one?"

"Feelin' greedier than that."

"Want two of those? Three?"

"Are y'always a smartass?"

"You couldn't handle the other me."

"How's that?"

"The pull-your-hair-and-say-'suck that cock, bitch' kind of me."

"I might like that..." My muscles tensed and she noticed it right away. "Not today. I need to be in th'right mood. Y'call me bitch when I'm not hot for it, y'get a slap and blue balls, Mister."

"Fair enough." Never in bed have I called women that to be demeaning. If you like roughness, you understand that it's no disrespect; it's just a different flavor to sex. If she was not into it, she was not into it. Simple. I tried a different approach. "Wouldst thee sucketh yon penis of mine, fair lady?"

She rolled her eyes in the most teenager-like fashion, but she extended her hand towards me. I was not going for oral again, however. I had just wanted to be a smartass. I lifted her so we were facing each other a few inches away. My expression let her know that I was not joking around anymore.

"Remember how I fucked you yesterday?" She shivered and nodded. From the short, brown nightstand, I took a condom and quickly placed it on my cock. "That was the warm-up, compared to what I'm going to do to you today." If her appearance wasn't deceiving, she was about to cum from the anticipation. I touched her face with a decisive, but gentle strength, to make her face away. "On all fours, Trish. I have an idea with a belt, but I'm not going to hurt you or anything, so don't freak out."

A kiss on her neck to soften the command and reassure her. She placed herself comfortably. From the nightstand I produced a belt and slid it so it went across her hips, with both ends towards me as if she were wearing it backwards. I grabbed the ends with one hand. Ok, Dante, kneel behind her.

Placing my cock against her lips, I pushed firmly but slowly. I didn't want to make her sore when it was just beginning. I pulled her towards me with the belt and she understood. I kissed her lower back, straightened myself up, and pulled again towards me, hard, using the belt. She moved, my dick going into her smoothly and effectively. Trish let some air escape her mouth with a tone that gave me the green light.

I started fucking her like that, my other hand extended towards her for me to play lightly with her clit. She tensed her inner walls in response and breathed in, only to breathe out immediately. "Ok, now you do that," I said, referring to the clit-playing motion. She chose her right hand to do the job, replacing mine, which left me with one end of the belt on each hand. I pulled her against me harder, her butt slapping against my pelvis, and she blurted something I couldn't understand.

That became our new routine. For a few minutes I was just pulling her against me over and over again, impaling her, using only my arms, but with enough strength to hear our bodies collide each time. I had no idea what she was telling me, but I made out a few random words that included "more", "harder", and so on; we were on the right track.

From cruise speed, I sped it up and used my hips to meet hers. She clumsily tried to adapt to the new rhythm, missing a few beats, but after a little, we were both on our way to a good orgasm.

It became a good time to introduce a change, so I altered the angle of my thrusts and got into it harder, pulling her against me with more strength than before. My feet found better leverage and I drove my body into hers forcefully, until I heard her hiss with pleasure. Saving the last burst of energy for the final part of the round, confident that she was as wet as she could get, I used my entire body like a machine whose only function was to fuck. My arms pulled as hard as they could and my pelvis, trying to reach as deep as possible, changed the angle often.

Besides that, the change in angles allowed me to find what worked better for her while rubbing the spots I couldn't see but certainly feel. Perspiration ran down my back. Trish's voice was still floating around the room, making no sense, except for random phrases.

"What?"

"So good..."

"You like that cock?"

"Yes...yes..." and I lost her again. Suddenly, her pussy reacted like a trap and closed down on my cock from all directions. Her breathing was too ragged to enable her to speak. It was as if her orgasm had sneaked up and suddenly assaulted Trish.  

"One..." I continued the movements to set her off again. Even when she tensed up and almost flopped down on the bed, I kept her up against me. That time her orgasm lasted longer than the previous. I saw only one side of her face, the other against the mattress. The girl was enjoying herself. Trish was trying to control her body, but as long as I kept that up, it was not up to her. Her inner muscles finally receded slightly.

"That was two..." I knew pretty well that she was aware of her orgasm, but I just liked reminding her who was in charge. I put both ends of the belt in one hand and spanked her, not too hard, but enough to send a few sparks down on her body. She sucked her breath in and that set her off to cumming yet again.

"That's it, Trish..." I wanted to say more, but it had been a very intense orgasm. Her whole being didn't respond to any of our attempts to control it. Her inner muscles hugged me tightly from all angles, and it all became too much. Either I talked, which would make me lose my concentration and cum, or I attempted to stall it.

I fucked her as hard as I could. I already had made her orgasm three times by then; it was time to see how hard she could take my pounding before I came. The muscles on my butt were on fire, but my penis was giving the orders. I needed more of that feeling—of her milking me.

It had lasted too long. Her cumming was probably more than one single orgasm. I assumed she had a few of them crossfading, one right after the other. Her face was contorted with pleasure and Trish, enjoying it maybe too much, didn't move, although her breasts moved back and forth with each impact of my pelvis against her backside. The lack of control attacked me. My orgasm was inevitable. I fucked the teen furiously for a few seconds before gritting my teeth and ramming myself into her.

After a few more seconds of trying to get deeper each time, I saw some white light when I closed my eyes. I started losing myself in the pleasure of what sex is supposed to be like. Raw and unapologetic. I think I screamed, but I'm not sure; the physical bliss was too much for me to focus on.

We both ended up on the mattress like rag dolls. I pulled my cock out of her before it went flaccid. The discarded condom expertly landed in the trashcan. We stared at the ceiling—one of those Zen moments when you just have to calm down—forgetting about the world. Or, maybe, starting to think about it again.

"Ok, Kid, catch your breath, because that was round two and we've got a few more to go."

She looked at me, as if trying to call me on my bluff. A bluff that wasn't there. I allowed half a smile to form on my lips. It was going to be a good night.